


The Gray Witch

by xxsorenxx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Femslash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxsorenxx/pseuds/xxsorenxx
Summary: Voldemort wanted a son, having another Sytherin heir at his disposal could prove to be useful. But that night Elena Snape, Severus’s younger sister, bore twins. She gave the dark lord her first born son, and hid her second born daughter in another country. Sixteen years later, Senna Snape is brought to Hogwarts in light of the Triwizard Tournament, and meets a cheerful and clumsy Auror named Nymphadora Tonks. Can this eccentric woman cure the darkness in her heart?





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

 Senna was an outcast since the very begging, since the day she was left abandoned on the steps of the orphanage. The other children in the orphanage feared her strangeness. They feared the way lightbulbs flickered when her emotions ran high, the way glass exploded from the windows when she was angry, so they dare not tease her anymore. They were afraid that she would know what they were thinking if they made eye contact with her—which was true—she had the uncanny ability to hear other’s thoughts. She was unlike them, the normal kids. And was shunned for it.

 Rumors circulated. The Clearcil Orphanage was a Catholic institute, and Senna’s habit of making strange things happen did not go unnoticed by nuns and priests who oversaw the place. There were whispers of her being possessed by a demon or tainted by Satan himself. What other way could they explain the strange phenomenon’s that surrounded her? The way she always knew what her caretakers were thinking, it must have been due to powers borrowed from the devil.

 The distance between Senna and her peers grew even larger when the headmaster of Brownwell Academy of the Magical Arts, visited the orphanage here in Rhode Island, United States. The old, round headmaster, named Julien Roberts, came to explain Senna’s circumstance to her and the head nun, Sister Mariana. His strangeness, and business with Senna and Senna only, confirmed their suspicions that Senna was not in the likeness of the other students, that she must be part of some strange, evil cult. Headmaster Roberts wore strange robes that resembled a mockery version of the bishops’ robes. When confronted with the knowledge of Senna’s most unusual abilities, he seemed utterly unsurprised.

 Senna was elated. She remembered the day Headmaster Roberts came to tell her that she was a witch, and that she was granted admission into the Brownwell Academy of the Magical Arts, the best magical education institute in Rhode Island.

 Here at Brownwell, she felt right at home. Senna’s wand and school supplies were funded by aid provided to students with need. She did not quite fit in, as much as she’d like too. Things were great at first, being with her own kind, discussing magic and homework with other students happily… but her friendships had slowly diminished since her first year. By the time she reached her third year at Brownwell, she had no friends remaining.

 Senna knew why. She had the bad habit of answering people’s thoughts instead of words. Whenever she looked into someone’s eyes, their thoughts came flooding into her mind, and Senna would answer them, unaware at first how invasive the other students found it. She would become mad at her peers when the thought something nasty towards her, usually out of jealousy because Senna had a natural talent for magic that the others did not share, and she would reprimand them for their thoughts. Weary of having their thoughts exposed, the others were careful not to look at her when they spoke to her.

 Eventually, the others stopped speaking to her entirely. The moment she came into view, people’s eyes would dart away from her, like she was an ugly creature they could not bear to look at.

 But she was not ugly. In fact, she was better looking than most. She had dark wavy hair, flawless ivory skin, and handsome dark eyes.

 But that was fine. She didn’t need their friendships. She had centuries worth of magical discoveries to learn, books to read, advanced spells to practice. She did not need them when she could perform spells so advanced, that even fully trained adult wizards could not match. Who needed friends if you knew more magic than any other student in their year?

 Friendless but still ambitious, Senna was now starting her sixth year at Brownwell. The rumors of the Triwizard Tournament had been solidified. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Great Britain is going to host the tournament, and play against three other schools, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, the Durmstrang Institute, and lastly, the Brownwell Academy of the Magical Arts.

 Sixth and Seventh years were going to study abroad in Great Britain for almost an entire year. Senna was beyond excited to venture out and learn the secrets of an institute so different from her own.

 Sitting on the campus court yard was two hot air balloons tethered to the ground. One was a bright blue, and the other was a flaming orange. The balloons each held a basket underneath, which looked like it could hold four—perhaps five people at most, but Senna knew that it was enchanted. Once she crossed basket gate, she would be presented with what would be their living quarters for the journey and the school year ahead.

 Excited to see the magic of it, Senna marched forward with the crowds of students into the balloon’s basket. She was to enter the blue one, meant for the sixth years. When other students spotted her, they moved out of her way hastily, but this did not bother her, she was used to it.

 As soon as she crossed the basket, the scene changed to a modern living room, decorated with blue drapes to match the outside. It was complete with a fireplace, lounging area, and bookshelves. There were two hallways opposite each other, one labeled girls, and the other, boys.

 Excited, but trying not to show it, she lugged her trunk toward the girls’ quarters, and claimed a bed far from the other girls, tucked away in the corner. She pushed her luggage under the bed, and sat back on the bed, looking around. She could see only two other beds from the hidden corner. She realized with a stab of resentment that it was practically a private room, seeing as no other girl would dare bunk within a hundred feet of her—at least willingly.

While the other girls chatted excitedly about the upcoming visit to Hogwarts, she settled in the book, Outsmarting the Dark Forces.

 Hours passed, and the giggling, excited girls calmed down, until their voices were no longer echoing into the corner. She peeked around the drapes to see that all the other sixth-year girls had all chosen beds on the farthest end from her. Not a single girl chose a bed within four beds from her. They were sleeping now, or at least trying to. Sighing, she stood up and walked over to the bathroom to clean up for bed. Averting their fearful gazes, she tiptoed silently into the other room.

 Senna observed her pale face in the mirror. It wasn’t fair. She’d never hurt anyone before—not on purpose at least. There were times that her temper had caused desks to vibrate and parchment to fly around the room, but she had never did it to hurt anyone. She was no longer eleven years old. She was sixteen, and in much better control of her magic and temper. Yet no one forgave her. No one forgot. Senna was still treated as that unstable eleven-year-old who could would reap your every thought with one look into her eyes.

 She curled up in her bed, tightly hugging her book. She had just a few days of travel, and she would be in a new world. A place undiscovered by her curiosity. A place where nobody held the memories of her strange behavior and creepy abilities, free from the stigma that followed her in Brownwell. She had control now. As long as she kept her mouth shut, and the others didn’t betray her to the new students she was yet to meet, this was a chance to start over. She finally had a chance to make a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

We arrived on a Saturday afternoon. The excited sixth and seventh years fumbled excitedly in the general direction of the Great Hall, being led by Headmaster Roberts. The Headmaster tried to quiet them down, but he was unsuccessful. There was no dampening their excitement. Students stared in awe at magnificent medieval castle that was so very different from their modern campus back in Providence. Hogwarts was an older institution of magic, over a thousand years old, filled with the riches of magical history.

This part excited Senna. A school this old must have vast amounts of knowledge and secrets hidden within its walls.

Scared yelps erupted from the Brownwell crowd. Senna peered above the tall seventh years to see what the commotion was about. In the shade of castle, the transparent figure of a woman glided across the stone floor. The woman stared back at the bewildered students with narrowed eyes. She probably thought they were being rude. Senna had read about the ghosts at Hogwarts. They are the imprints of dead witches and wizards left behind to roam the earth. Senna wasn't afraid, but intrigued. She tried to shuffle her way to the front of the crowd to get a better look. She had read about them, but had never seen one. Brownwell didn't have any ghosts.

The ghost woman tossed transparent hair over her shoulder, stuck her nose in the air, and continued on her way. Students stared after her until Headmaster Roberts ushered them forward.

The dirty looking, short old man who had led Roberts and his students into the castle pushed open two large wooden doors. This took a lot of effort from him. He grunted and his arms shook, but slowly, the doors gave way to a large room. Students gasped in awe. The room was lit with the light of the shining afternoon sun, courtesy of the enchanted ceiling. Moving portraits lined the walls in disorganized rows. Students sat around four very long tables, which each bore a different colored table cloth, red, yellow, green, and blue. At the end of the Great Hall had an additional table full of older witches and wizards who all held the air of power and wisdom that the students did not. This must be the staff.

Upon entering, the students and staff of Hogwarts looked up with welcoming smiles. The Hogwarts students exchanged glances with each other and chatted excitedly, pointing fingers in our direction.

The old wizard in the center of the staff table stood up in welcome. He looked very old, but his demeanor seemed that of a young man. He had long silver hair and an equally long beard. Shiny half-moon spectacles sat on his crooked nose. This must be their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

“Welcome! Brownwell students, welcome to Hogwarts.” He opened his arms in greeting, “As you all know, and I will repeat to you this evening, when our other guest arrive, that the delegations from Beauxbatons, Brownwell, and Durmstrang will be staying with us for the greater part of this year.”

Brownwell had arrived early.

“We would be delighted for you all to join us for lunch. Afterwards please enjoy yourself and the company of our students, but please know the Forest in the grounds is out of bounds to all students.” Dumbledore waved us forward. “Please, please, sit where ever you’d like. My dear friend Roberts, I have a seat for you.” He gestured for Roberts to sit next to him.

A moment passed where the group of Brownwell students stood, looking excited, but unsure what to do next. There were four tables to choose from. One by one they ventured out, choosing a table to sit at. Most chose tables closest to the entrance, the one decorated with yellow to the right, and the blue one to the left.

Senna looked around the room, still unsure. She had to think fast if she didn’t want to be the only one left standing. She noticed that the table decorated with the scarlet cloth looked the most boisterous. Children there threw food at each other and were telling animated stories with an unnecessary amount volume and hand gestures. So she turned away, looking at the blue table. Students there were not as excitable. They seemed the most civilized with their noses in books, frantically writing notes in parchment, and discussing topics in serious whispers. But it made her nervous to imagine approaching the table, they all looked like they were very busy and would prefer to not be disturbed. The green table seemed intermediate. Some students there were jeering nosily at the other students, while others had their faces pressed up against parchment. What stood out the most was the table in yellow. They looked upon the visitors with warm and friendly smiles. This table seemed the safest.

Nervously, she sauntered forward, looking for a gap in the rows of sitting students. Upon spotting her, a girl with a plump face and short blonde hair stood up and welcomed her with a smile. 

“Why don’t you sit here, with us?” She said warmly. 

Grateful, Senna took a seat next to her. 

“I’m Hannah,” she said. “Hannah Abbot.” She extended a hand. 

Senna took a deep breath. She knew that avoiding eye-contact with them would look suspicious and may hinder her attempt to make friends. She just had to pretend she couldn’t hear thoughts. Resolved, she looked directly in Hannah’s eyes, and shook her hand. 

“I’m Senna.” 

Hannah opened her mouth to speak again, but before Senna heard what she said, she heard her thoughts. 

 _‘Poor girl, she seems nervous. She has nothing to worry about here’,_ Hannah thought. 

“Glad to have you!” Hannah beamed. “This is—” she pointed to the others behind her, “Ernie, Justin, and Susan.” They waved, smiling at her just as warmly as Hannah had. Senna attempted to smile back, but it was hard. When was the last time she had smiled? Some of their thoughts flitted into her mind when their gazes met. 

_‘Blimey, she’s pretty.’_

_‘She looks a little scared, hopefully she finds herself right at home here’_

_‘Maybe we can get her to join our herbology club’_

The thoughts rushed through her too quickly to know where each had come from, but they seemed friendly enough. She sighed in relief. 

After a delicious lunch of salad and sandwiches, students began leaving the Great Hall. 

Hannah stood to accompany Senna out of the great hall. 

“We’re going back to our common room. Would you like to join us? We could show you around.” She offered. 

Her stomach tightened as she fought with her desires. Yes she wanted to go with them. She was so very thankful that they even spoke to her. But her desire to discover the secrets of Hogwarts was burning just as strong as her desire to make friends. 

“I don’t think I’m allowed in there.” She told them. “I’m not in hufflepuff.” Senna had picked up some of the customs from listening to their lunchtime conversations. 

Hannah considered this, thinking she may be right. She didn’t know if the Brownwell students were allowed in their dormitories. 

Senna took her silence as confirmation that she was not allowed in. 

“I was thinking of checking out your library, actually.” Senna said. 

“Oh. Sure.” Hannah pointed a finger. “It’s that way. Turn left on the next corridor, and then make a right. But be careful, peeves likes to throw dung bombs from the corner by the statue.” 

“Peeves?” 

“Yeah. He’s the poltergeist that gives Filtch and the staff such a hard time.” 

Heeding her warning and passing cautiously by every statue, she headed to the library. 

She entered the quiet space and took a deep breath. The smell of old paper and ink made her feel at home. The Hogwarts library was many times larger than Brownwell’s library. Her heart leaped in excitement. 

She spotted a table with a group of students that looked like they could be sixth years. Their blue ties told her they were ravenclaws. They were huddled around a book on advanced potion making. She had the urge to talk to them, to ask them what they were working on, and if they needed any help—Senna was great at potions. 

 But Senna stood, frozen. It was so much harder to approach them than she originally thought. She had given up on talking to people years ago, knowing it was no use. No matter how friendly she was, they scampered away in fear. But these kids didn’t know her, they had nothing to judge. Even with that knowledge, her heart drummed loudly in her chest. 

She stepped out from behind the bookshelf.

One of the ravenclaw boys looked up, curious.

I opened my mouth to speak, but as our eyes met, his thoughts flooded into my mind.

 _‘A brownwell girl. Holy merlins beard, this one’s hot! I wonder if I can get her to sleep with me.’_ Then made a mental image that repulsed her. It was her—naked with him.

She tore her eyes away before she could see anything else.

Heat trickled down her spine in anger. What an obnoxious thing to think. She took a deep breath, willing herself not to lose her temper. She promised herself that she would not judge people based on their thoughts, but it was difficult. But even as he gave her a friendly smile, she found that she did not want to talk to them after all.

She spun on her heels and walked away. When she reached the corridors, she began to sprint. She could not take pleasure in books right now, not when she was so angry.

She turned left and then—Wham!

She ran right into what felt like wall, bounced off, and fell backwards with a gasp. Except it wasn’t a wall, because it stumbled backwards too.

“Ye alright?” A woman’s voice asked, somewhat dazed.

Senna pushed herself off the ground to face whoever it was she ran into. She had run into a woman. She looked far too young to be a teacher, but wasn’t wearing the same attire as the students. She wore a tight white top that exposed a strip of a well-toned abdomen, black jeans, black leather boots, and a maroon robe on top of it all. But that wasn’t the strangest thing yet. Her short spiked hair was bubble-gum pink, and her nails were painted blood red. She wore an assortment of brass bracelets and necklaces that jingled noisily as she stumbled.

Senna simply stared at the woman. Her appearance was shocking. This woman was very beautiful indeed, with a sculpted angular face, and warm hazel eyes. But the add-ons made her seem unruly and wild.

The surprise of seeing such a person knocked all the anger from her.

“Sorry. Yeah I’m alright, how about you?” Senna asked, wary of the strange woman.

“Fine. Fine.” She waved a hand in the air. “I walk into things all the time.”

“Actually, I think _I_ ran into _you_.” Senna corrected, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

A strange look came across the woman’s face. She looked… distracted.

“Blimey.” She said, leaning towards Senna to study her face. “Are you part Veela?”

Heat crept into Senna’s face. She leaned away, taken aback. Part Veela? Where on earth did that come from? She knew what they were. She had read about them. Veela are a different species. They resemble beautiful women with white-silver hair and fair skin. When enraged, Veela turn into vicious, ugly harpies.

When the shock wore off, Senna laughed. It was just so ridiculous.

The woman leaned back, eyeing her dubiously.

“No.” Senna laughed. “At least I don’t think so. Aren’t Veela and part-Veela always blonde anyways?” Senna had black hair.

“That’s true.”

“Where did that question come from?” Senna asked.

“Uh.” The woman hesitated. She did not want to admit that she found this young and dark haired student so beautiful that she couldn’t possibly human. “I dunno.” Her hair turned a shade darker in embarrassment.

“What’s your name?” Senna asked. She was still wary of her—she was acting strangely. And did her hair just change colors? What in the world was she?

“Nymphadora Tonks. You can call me Tonks.” She held out a hand to Senna.

Senna took it. “I’m Senna.”

“Great to meet you.” She winked.

Senna could feel the heat returning to her cheeks. She assumed it was a playful wink, but it also seemed somehow… flirtatious.

“Your hair—” Senna could not help herself. It was just too bizarre.

“Oh yeah.” Tonks laughed. “I can change it to whatever color I want.”

Senna’s eyes widened. She could not think of a spell or charm that would allow her to change hair color on demand—at least not without pointing a wand at her head.

Seeing the confusion in Senna’s eyes, Tonks continued, “I’m a Metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will.” She grinned at her. “Want to see?”

Before Senna said anything, Tonk’s face began to change. The full pink lips became a duck’s bill, and her nose flattened itself until it was gone. She now looked like a strange bird with pink hair.

Senna laughed. It looked so ridiculous. And when Tonks began making a show of opening and closing her new mouth, Senna laughed even harder. She doubled over, needing to use the wall for support.

Tonks’ face returned to normal. She wore a huge grin.

“Cool, huh?”

Senna wiped the laughing tears from her eyes. When was the last time she had laughed this hard? Actually, she didn’t think she had ever laughed so much before.

“Well.” Tonks looked down at her watch. “I should be at the south end by now. I’m on patrol duty. See ya later, Senna.” Tonks winked at her and smiled. Then she waved and proceeded down the corridor.

For some undiscovered reason, this made her blush again. It was a good thing that Tonks was no longer here to see it. Was it her breathtaking smile? Or the roguishness glint in her eyes?

She felt an inkling of disappointment watching her walk away. For a fleeting moment, she had felt light and happy. It had felt so good to laugh like that. And her ray of happiness was disappearing down the corridor of Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The meeting with the interesting woman had lifted Senna’s spirits enough that she decided to brave the library again. Taking a deep breath, the entered the library once more, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. It would only take a single nasty thought to revive her temper. 

That’s when she realized that she hadn’t heard a single thought from Tonks, even when looking directly into those hazel eyes. This did was not very unusual however. From a young age she noticed there were a certain adults whose thoughts she would never hear. Later on, she made the connection that it was the thoughts of very skilled witches and wizards that were usually silent to her. It wasn’t until she read about occlumency that she completely understood why she heard some thoughts, but not others. And the first connection she made had made sense to her, occlumency, the act of closing one’s mind to intruders, took an enormous amount of practice, concentration, and skill. 

This Tonks woman could not be a student then, she was far too skilled. But she couldn’t be a teacher either. Senna couldn’t imagine someone as young and rambunctious as Tonks being in charge of students. Who was she?

Cautiously weaving through the bookshelves, as to not be seen, she made her way to find the history selves. It would be a good place to start. 

Her eyes landed on a worn leather-bound volume. It read Hogwarts: A History. Using a single finger, she pried the book from the shelves. This would be a good place to start.

A chapter on one of the four great founders, Salazar Slytherin, brooded in her mind. This man was one of the most brilliant wizards of all time. He valued particular traits in his students, which were traits that he himself possessed. Resourcefulness, cleverness, determination, ambition, cunningness, and blood purity. Senna felt a bit of connection with the Slytherin house at that moment. Those were values she had prized herself, all except for blood purity. Being an orphan at a muggle orphanage, she would never know her heritage. She was probably muggle born. And Salazar Slytherin did not like muggle-borns. He distrusted them, believed they were intruding on the secrets of the wizarding world. 

There was one part of the chapter that sent her mind into overdrive. Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue, meaning he had the ability to talk to snakes. It was in innate ability, that was inherited, not learned. And the most intriguing part, was that Senna could too. It was something that she’d always been able to do. She didn’t know there was a name for it, let alone what it could mean. If this was in fact an inherited trait, one only passed down from the decedents of Salazar Slytherin, she may be able to discover her heritage after all.

This thought was both exciting and disconcerting. Salazar Slytherin was a British wizard. His history and descendants were rooted in Europe. Senna was from an entirely different continent. Maybe this commonality between her and Slytherin was merely a coincidence. 

Emerged in tales of how Hogwarts came to be, she didn’t realize how late it had gotten. A window from the far end of the library told her the sun has set. Not bothering to check the book out, she pushed it back into its place in the shelf, and hurried back to the Great Hall. 

Senna had good memory, so it did not take her long to find her way back. She was relieved to see that students were still pouring into the Hall. Shuffling through the crowd of students, she found Hannah Abbot and sat dutifully next to her. 

“How was the library?” Hannah asked.

“Grand.” Senna told her. “A lot of books.”

She laughed. “Yeah. It’s a library.”

Senna had to lean closer to Hannah to speak to her, the crowd was getting louder. “Have you seen a girl with really pink hair? Who is she?”

A look of recognition immediately flitted across her face. Senna heard her thoughts first.

‘She must be talking about that Auror.’

“Ahh Tonks? Yeah she’s an Auror, works for the Ministry of Magic.” Hannah said. 

‘I wonder how that even happened, she so clumsy it’s a miracle she passed the tests.’ Hannah thought. Mental images from Hannah entered Senna’s mind. They were memories of when Hannah had spotted the Auror Tonks. Walking into a giant vase near Hufflepuff common rooms, causing it to fall over and shatter. Tonks had hastily tried to repair it, but with it being an old magical item, it could not be fixed by magical means. Another image of Tonks walking into one of peeves’ many traps when Hannah was on her way to class. Hannah did not having anything against Tonks, as she was a Hufflepuff alumni, but she felt that Tonks was not suitable to be an Auror. 

Then she spoke again. “They have several Aurors stationed here at the school for the Triwizard Tournament, you know, dangerous times, with you-know-what going on.”

Senna tilted her head, looking at Hannah quizzically. “With what going on?”

Hannah took a deep breath a looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening. “You don’t know?” When Senna stared at her blankly, Hannah sighed and continued. “You-know-who’s son. All the recent murders and disappearances. They think it’s him, the Dark Prince, Prince Struan. They think he’s trying to finish what his father started.”

Senna blinked. She had heard of you-know-who. He didn’t wreck as much havoc in the Americas as he did in the Europe, but a lot of terror and death had reached all around the world. She had not heard about Prince Struan though. The most recent news of you-know-was that he was destroyed when he tried to kill an infant named Harry Potter thirteen years ago. 

Hannah continued. “With all the people coming in and out of the school, especially when the tournament starts, they’re going to need all the security they can get.” 

They could no longer talk. The applause was deafening. They both whipped around to see the students of Beauxbatons striding gracefully into the Great hall, led by their headmistress, Madam Maxine. Their blue silk robes flowed like water in behind them. They walked with a grace that made Hogwarts and Brownwell seem completely uncultured. Albus Dumbledore welcomed them warmly, and allowed Madam Maxine to sit on his other side. 

The applause started again, and soon, the students of Durmstrang marched in, all wearing high fur coats and menacing scowls. First years seemed to sink lower in their seats in fright. Again, Dumbledore welcomed them and their headmaster, Karkaroff. He took a place next to Roberts.

They spread themselves among the Hogwarts students. Beauxbatons seem to fall mostly into the Ravenclaw table, while Durmstrang gravitated towards Slytherin. The moment where there were no more standing students, the empty tables erupted in food. Golden plates and goblets made their appearance, along with trays of food stacked many feet high. Chicken and beef skewers, stews and curries, breads, and everything you could imagine. An appreciative roar echoed through the Great Hall, and there was no time wasted before everyone dug in. 

When dessert had come and gone, and the last traces of pudding were removed from every table, Dumbledore stood. 

“I have the great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts, we are to have the honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament. For those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition between selected schools of Magic. A willing champion will be selected to represent each school. On Halloween, we will have the Champion Selections. An impartial judge will decide which students, are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school along with a thousand galleons in prize money.”

Senna’s own excitement bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. She did not know what this tournament would hold, but it would surely be a test of skill, courage, and cleverness. And that sounded like fun. But it was also a chance to prove herself. A chance to make everyone who shunned her admire her instead. The idea of making everyone at Brownwell jealous of her talent, to make them regret treating her like she didn’t exist when they realized she was going to be great, was very tempting. It would satisfy her deep urge for revenge. 

Dumbledore paused, letting the roar of excitement pass.

“Eternal glory! That's what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament, but to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks. Eager though I know all of you will be, because of the danger involved, only students who are of age, seventeen years or older, will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.”

The excited uproar became an angry one. Students grumbled in distaste, but Dumbloedore merely smiled back at the mutinous faces, his eyes twinkling. 

Senna’s vision of holding the Triwizard cup, triumphing over the other students, was clouded for only a second. She was determined. She would find a way. 

We were then dismissed to return to our common rooms. Hannah watched Senna, noting that she did not stand up right away as the other students had. 

“Is something wrong?” She asked her.

“No.” Senna reassured her. “I’m just waiting for the crowd to settle down. You go ahead.”

She gave Senna one last worried look before hurrying after the other Hufflepuffs. 

It was dread that held Senna back. She wished she could follow Hannah, who had been so nice to her, to the Huffflepuff common rooms. She knew she would not be judged there, would not have to meet fearful gazes. She dreaded having to return to her quarters with the other Brownwell students. She knew what to expect. She would be avoided like the plague. 

Senna was not in the mood to deal with the prejudice of her peers. When the crowd died down, she walked into the corridors, and took a random turn. Checking over her shoulder to make sure no one was there, she whipped her wand around her head, casting the disillusionment charm upon herself. She then walked over to the nearest suit of armor and looked at herself. When she saw nothing in her reflection, she grinned at her success. She had been practicing the disillusionment charm a lot last term, and her hard work had paid off. This was a tricky charm indeed.

Happy with herself, Senna weaved carefully between the remaining students in the corridors, aiming to find the grand doors that would lead her outside. Once she found her way outside, she stared at two baskets that would serve as her quarters for the rest of the year. The blue balloon was deflated, sprawled on the ground so that it resembled water. She could not bring herself to enter. Not now, when she had an entire new world to explore. 

So she turned around to wander the grounds. She strode confidently, knowing her charm was perfectly cast. Nobody would see her, not even the ghosts. 

She froze when she saw a figure move in the darkness. It was probably a staff member doing a patrol of the grounds. She shouldn’t get caught, but as a precaution she took a deep breath and focused on closing her mind. She had not been tutored in occlumency, and had no idea if her occulmency worked since she had no one to try it out on, but she read and practiced the basics. It required one to clear their mind, and focus on creating a protective shield around their mind. 

She proceeded quietly. With a shield around her mind, as long as the patrolling member wasn’t a skilled legilimens or had super-sonic hearing, she would was untraceable. She caught up to the figure she had first seen. It was a hunched old man carrying a torch. He grumbled as he walked, something about ‘those damn kids’. She slipped passed him, and re-entered the castle, now heading to the library. 

But what she saw next made her heart pound loudly in her chest. A flash of maroon had caught her eye. It was Tonks patrolling that corridor. Tonks whistled a cheerful tune as she strode carefree through the hallway. She swung her hips, dancing to the tune she sang. 

She willed herself to relax, standing against the wall, allowing her approaching guest a lot of room to pass. It was just Tonks. Even if she was an Auror, she wasn’t a very perceptive one, according to Hannah’s thoughts. As she drew nearer and nearer, she couldn’t help but stare, transfixed. 

She emitted an aura of lightheartedness. The edge of her lip was turned up just a bit, etching a permanent smirk on her face. And there was more that transfixed her. The way she swung her hips emphasized her toned waist. The strip of skin left exposed between her belt and her top was a teaser. It made her wonder how the rest of her body looked. He gaze traveled upward, to the perfectly sculpted neckline, and the rise of her firm breasts. She wondered what it would feel like to hug her, to be held in her strong arms. Catching herself in mid-thought, Senna cursed at herself. What was she thinking?

Her cheeriness made Senna feel a tad bit angry. She was an Auror. How could she be so happy-go-lucky? She was a dark wizard catcher for heaven’s sake. She should be dark and brooding, not cheery. 

Senna held her breath as Tonks passed her. But Tonks took two steps and then paused. She stood there, her back facing Senna. Senna’s heart pounded faster and harder. She desperately hoped that Tonks would not hear it. When Tonks stopped whistling, Senna felt a light sheen a sweat appear on top of her brow. 

No, Tonks could not possibly know she was there. Her charm was perfect. And her shield around her mind should be sufficient enough for even an Auror not to detect her presence. 

When Tonks began to walk forward again, Senna sighed in relief. 

But Tonks spun around so fast, Senna did not have a chance to reach her own wand. Tonks hurtled a non-verbal spell at the exact spot where Senna stood with one quick flick of the wrist. And it did not miss. 

Senna’s arms went rigid and fell to her sides. She could not move, not even to steady herself. She fell onto her back with a thud. She knew at once that she was hit with petrificus totalus, the full body-bind curse. 

“Gotcha!” Tonks beamed.

She skipped around to where Senna laid, and began to pat around. “So is it a cloak or a knack for the disillusionment charm you’ve got there?”

Finally she reached her, patting her frozen leg. “Ahhh Disillusionment charm! Nice. Who have I got here?” She asked, patting higher and higher to size up her invisible opponent.

Tonks’ hand reached her stomach, slowly sliding higher. Her fingers slowly searched the fabric of her robes. Tonks was looking for her wand, to disarm her. Senna knew this, but she couldn’t help but feel the heat Tonks’ hand left in its wake. A burning sensation that made her throb with yearning. Senna cursed at herself. This was not the time to feel this sort of thing. “If you’re a death eater, you’re an awfully small one.” Tonks commented.

Tonks’ hand landed on Senna’s left breast and squeezed. An unwelcome surge of pleasure surged through her center, and traveled farther still, until it reached beneath her naval. A moment passed where Tonks’ hand froze, and a look of confusion crossed her face. “A female death eater?” She pondered, quickly tearing her hand away when she realized what she was holding. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

Tonks leaned back on her knees and held out her wand, then tapped Senna chest with it, muttering a silent spell. As the warm trickle reverberated throughout her body, she knew she had become visible again. 

Tonks’ eyes widened in surprise, her hair turning a darker shade of pink to match the blush creeping into her face. 

“Ah.” She blinked. “I remember you.” She shook her head, crossing her arms in disapproval. “Wandering the castle after sundown? No, not a very good start, is it? You know, breaking rules this early in the semester shines a bad light on your school.”

Tonks pulled out her wand again, holding it close to Senna’s face. “I’m supposed to report you, you know. To your headmaster.” But she looked like she was debating with herself. 

When the tip of her wand touched her temple, Senna thought she was going to be released the binding curse, but when the control of her body didn’t come, she looked back at Tonks’ face. And her expression sent a wave on anxiety and arousal over her. Her eyes had darkened with some unknown desire, literally. They were now a deep rich sepia, which bore into hers with frightening intensity. She couldn’t read her expression very well. Tonks’ face had gone hard. But the slight furrow in her brow told her she was deliberating something, something unrelated to the topic of reporting her. Something about this look made the fire burn in her lower abdomen, and it burned hotter than ever. 

The wand that touched her temple, gently traveled down her cheekbone, traced her jawline, and then agonizingly made its way down her neck. She swore she could feel I tingle of electricity coming from the tip of her wand. And when it traced the sensitive skin of her collar bone, she would’ve arched her back, if she were able. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Tonks said. Her smirk was no longer playful, but devilish. Her normally cheery voice was deeper and seductive, almost a purr in her ear. And it made every nerve in her body feel alive.

Stay tuned for chapter four… :)  
Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannah, Justin, Ernie, and Susan are supposed to be the same year as Harry potter in the books (fourth year), but they are sixth years in this fanfiction.   
I couldn’t figure out which is correct, is it Tonks’ss or Tonks’s? The rules for possessive nouns elude me. Anyone know the answer? Also, if you see a typo that I didn’t catch, let me know (through PM). And review if you can!

Chapter 4:

Tonks POV:

She couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from the beautiful girl lying on the stone floor. She was like a porcelain doll—no a goddess. Flawless in appearance. Her dark eyes conveyed a strange intensity that made her seem older than her years. Both tenderness and determination. The confidence in her stride was almost threatening. She had this look about her, like she knew what everyone else was thinking, and was above it all. The wavy black hair that splayed around her was like a silky midnight curtain. 

Tonks lifted her wand from the girl’s collarbone. She wanted to use her hand instead, to feel her smooth pale skin, but she had to resist. It was bad enough that she had felt her supple but toned body under her hands—and enjoyed it. 

A dark strand of hair laid across her face. Tonks reached out to move the strand, brushing the girl’s cheekbone. God, her skin was soft. She could swear she saw color rise in her cheek where she had touched it. 

Tonks was looking at the girl's lips now. They were full and very soft-looking. Tonks could only imagine what they would feel against hers. The moment she imagined it, the urge hit her like a brick. She wanted it, wanted it very very much. She traced the girl’s bottom lip with her thumb. She had to bite her own lip to stop herself from caving in. Oh, it was so very tempting. She shook her head. She couldn’t. She had already allowed herself the travesty of touching her lips, she couldn’t step any further. Senna would remember this. She was awake right now. And if this reached her supervisor, it would be the end of her career as an Auror. 

Tonks regained her senses, feeling ashamed of what she had just done—what she just enjoyed. 

She lifted her wand, held it to Senna’s chest, and muttered the counter curse. 

Senna’s body came alive then. She gasped, taking large breaths into her lungs. Color flooded into her face. She quickly looked to Tonks in horror, and then looked away, looking both terrified and embarrassed.

Shit, Tonks thought to herself. She had really messed up. She probably scarred the poor girl for life. Trying to recover her air of authority, she squared her shoulders. 

“Wandering the castle at night is strictly prohibited.” She said in her most commanding voice. “I should report you, but I won’t.” 

Senna just looked at her with an unreadable expression, the blush still in her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. 

Tonks’s composure was falling fast. If she didn’t stop looking at this beautiful girl, she was going to do something stupid again.

“Go.” She commanded. “Before I change my mind.”

Senna blinked for a moment. Then she turned and sprinted away. 

To betray her further, Tonks could not help but admire her long legs, and the grace in which she moved. What an amazing creature she was. 

 

Senna’s POV:

Senna didn’t stop running until she reached the hot air balloon basket. Her lungs burned ferociously and her sides cramped. But she didn’t mind it. It distracted her from the unwelcome throbbing between her legs. 

After sneaking back in, she tiptoed to the bathroom to shower. She let the hot water scald her skin. But it didn’t distract her as well as she had hoped. Tonks’s face filled her mind. Her dark, lust filled eyes. Watching her bite her own lip while touching Senna’s had almost made her combust on the spot. There was something incredibly sexy about it—even if she didn’t understand why. 

Senna’s hand trailed down her own stomach and felt her wetness. She gasped. This had never happened before. She had never wanted anyone to touch her before now, and certainly not to the degree. Why was this happening now? What was it about this clumsy and eccentric Auror that made her want her? 

Not only was this unanticipated, but also abnormal. Tonks was a woman. A woman, not a man. 

She let her fingers rub over her swollen flesh. She bit back a cry and braced herself against the shower wall. She could not remember a time where she had been so turned on. She moved her fingers in slow strokes, bewildered by the sensations that coursed through her. It made her want to scream. When the tension built to where she couldn’t take it anymore, she stopped, panting against the wall of the shower. 

It felt wrong to come now. To come when images of Tonks flooded through her mind. It felt like giving Tonks power over her, and she couldn’t allow that. She was intrigued by Tonks, entertained by her. But to allow such pleasure to come over her with the image of Tonks in her mind…

She wouldn’t do it.

Sunday morning was bright and warm. It was unusual weather for October in Great Britain. Senna approached the Hufflepuff table, and was greeted warmly by Hannah, Ernie, Justin, and Susan. 

Senna filled her plate with eggs, toast, and jam. 

“Is there a shortcut to the library?” Senna asked. “A different route?” She was determined to avoid making contact with the Auror. 

Hannah thought for a moment, chewing on a piece of bacon. “Yes—actually. I can show you. I have to go there anyways.” She cringed, thinking about her transfiguration NEWTs. Thankfully, it distracted her from asking Senna why she needed a different route. 

“Would you like help?” with transfiguration, Senna almost spoke aloud, but she caught herself. She wasn’t supposed to be able to read thoughts. 

A skeptical look crossed Hannah’s face. “Unless you’re good at conjuring—”

“Yes. I am.”

She gave me a look of disbelief. “Have you already passed that section at your school?”

“No. We started conjuring this year as well.”

“And you’ve got the hang of it?” 

“Yes.” She assured her. 

“Can you perform the Bird-Conjuring Charm?” Hannah asked with wide eyes. 

She sighed. “Yes!”

Hannah smiled at her, but it was a wary smile. Hannah didn’t believe she could accomplish such a spell so early in the term. 

Hannah, and her three Hufflepuff friends, led Senna into an empty classroom. 

‘Avis!’ Senna yelled in her head, pointing her wand to the ceiling. 

The four Hufflepuffs stared in awe as yellow canaries burst from her wand tip and soared around the classroom. She let the canaries fly around the classroom for a moment before lifting her wand again. 

Following the small flock with her wand, she yelled ‘Evanesco’ in her head, vanishing the canaries into non-being. 

Canaries were easy. In her free time at brownwell, she had already started conjuring larger objects such as chairs, goblets, and blankets. 

Their eyes returned to Senna, their mouths wide open. 

‘Holy merlin’s beard.’ Ernie thought. 

‘No incantation? She did that all non-verbally?’ 

‘Her aim is unworldly! Those birds were moving so fast!

‘We barely started nonverbal spells.’ Hannah thought. 

“Wow. That was—amazing. Did you start nonverbal spells already at Brownwell?” Hannah asked her.

Performing spells non-verbally was not easy. It required a great deal of practice, concentration, and mental discipline.

“Err…” Truthfully, Senna had not started it formally. She had spent her fifth year trying everything non-verbally, especially when the difficulty of the magic became too easy and boring. They weren’t due to start learning non-verbal until this year, which they barely started before leaving to Hogwarts. “Yeah.” She lied. 

They nodded in awe. 

Senna walked around the four of them as they practiced, correcting their posture and reminding them that the trick to conjuration is perfect concentration. But the end of the hour, Hannah and Justin had managed to conjure two canaries. Susan and Ernie on the other hand, were having a harder time. The closest Susan got was a puff of feathers flying from her wand. Ernie managed to conjure a strange cross breed between a canary and a worm. Frightened, Senna had vanished it before it could give them all nightmares. 

They were all sweating from their endeavors, everyone except for Senna. 

“I think—I think we have much more to show Professor McGonagall now.” Hannah huffed. “Thanks Senna.” 

“Easy for you to say.” Said Ernie as he panted against the table. 

“You’re a sixth-year too, right?” Justin said with a hopeful smile. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Senna agreed. 

They separated ways, the Hufflepuffs headed to the common room, and Senna to the library. Even though she took a whole different route to the library, she could not help but feel nervous. What would she do if she ran into that Auror again? She peeked around every corner, watching for any sign of that maroon cloak.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she made it, Auror free. Now she could concentrate on the pressing matter. How were they deciding the champions? How were they going to reinforce the over-age requirement? And most importantly, how was she going to get passed it? She began her search, ignoring the curious gazes of the other students. 

After an hour of searching, she came up empty. All the book on prior Triwizard Tournaments had already been checked out. She had run out of time, it was nearly lunch time. 

Sighing, she stood and returned to the Great Hall for lunch. 

Lee Jordan approached the table where Senna sat. He grinned at her, then looked back at the Gryffindor table, whom several boys whistled and gave him the thumbs up. They were obviously encouraging him to do something. His thoughts flooded into her mind when his eyes met hers. 

‘A girl that hot in Hufflepuff? She can do better than that.’

“Hello, I’m Lee. It’s a pleasure.” Lee held out a hand, but Senna did not take it. What did he mean, do better? Hannah and her friends were very decent people, more decent than anyone she had met at Brownwell. 

She caught herself doing it again. She was judging people by their thoughts, not by what they said. It had become such a problem in her years at Brownwell, and she vowed to be normal. And from a normal person’s standpoint, Lee was perfectly charming. 

“Senna.” She said, taking his hand as he already begun to withdraw it. 

He smiled, relieved. “Would you like to sit with us?” He pointed to the Gryffindor table. “Broaden your range of friends?” He gave an unimpressed glance at Hannah, who gave him an unfriendly stare in return. 

Senna tried to reciprocate his friendly smile, even when she’d rather step on his toe. “No thanks, I’m fine here.”

His friendly smile wavered. “I see.” He stared at his feet for a moment before returning his gaze to me.

‘Just ask her! Hope is not lost yet. She looks angry, maybe I should ask later. Arg! I’ll just do it—’

“I was thinking, next weekend, during the next Hogsmeade visit, I could show you around. You know, give you a tour.” He smiled hopefully. 

That piqued Senna’s interest. The idea of having personal tour guide around the wizarding town of Hogsmeade was tempting. But the snippets of thoughts coming from Lee told her he wasn’t interested in giving a tour so such as going on a date. That idea made her queasy. Senna looked up at him, analyzing. He wasn’t bad-looking. Somewhat handsome. He returned her scrutinizing stare sheepishly. She was amused by it. Where was all his confidence now? But thinking about it, she deemed that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. When was the last time someone asked her on a date? Given her reputation at Brownwell, never.

“Sure.” Senna said. She was worried that she didn’t sound cheerful enough for social appropriateness, but Lee smiled regardless. 

“Great.” He beamed. “I’ll meet you at the gates around noon next Saturday?” 

“That would be great.” Senna tried to sound optimistic, but her years as a depressed lonely freak had robbed her of that ability. 

When he strutted triumphantly back to the Gryffindor table, Hannah turned to her with an eyebrow raised. “Lee Jordan from Gryffindor? Really?”

“What about it?” Senna asked.

‘That bastard thinks Hufflepuffs are a waste of space. And he’s such a womanizer. Seriously? She just got here and is already trying to get in her pants.’

“He’s a troublemaker.” Hannah said. “He and the Weasley twins are always landing themselves in detention. I wouldn’t spend too much time with their crowd.” She rolled her eyes. 

“It’ll be fine, it’s just one day.” Senna assured her.

After lunch, Senna returned to the library, determined to find out information about the tournament. Yet again, she came up empty handed. She had to start thinking of another way get the information she needed. But who? There was no way a teacher was going to help an underage girl sneak into the tournament. 

She questioned Hannah during dinner, but neither she nor her friends knew much about the tournament. 

After dinner, Senna waited for the tables to clear out. She dismissed Hannah when she asked her why she was staying behind. She had an inkling to return to the library, just to see if any of the books on the Triwizard Tournament have been returned, but shuddered at the thought of running into the Auror again. 

Once the staff began to stand up, she hurried out of the Great Hall, towards the front doors. She could hear voices in the distance. The vast majority of Brownwell students were a dozen or so yards in front of her, making their way to the enchanted baskets as she was. 

A maroon cape flashed out in front of her, and she stumbled backwards in horror. There she was, the one person she did not want to see. 

Tonks. She stood in front of Senna, grinning, with her hands on her hips. 

“What the—” She looked around the corridor, wondering how she had appeared out of thin air. 

“Hey.” She said.

“What do you want?” Senna asked her coldly. 

Senna’s face flushed. Not out of anger, but from her own unpreparedness. With her focus on the Triwizard Tournament, she had not had a chance to process the irrational attraction she had for this strange woman. She didn’t have a chance to seal it away where it couldn’t affect her. Tonks stood there, in all her glory. Her spiky pink hair sticking in all directions, her painted fingernails, and she was wearing a black turtleneck sweater than hugged her curves in very flattering ways… She wasn’t traditional beauty, not the kind of beauty that required perfectly groomed hair and silk dresses. In fact, her clothes didn’t match at all. But her eccentricity suited her. It made her… incredibly cool. 

Tonks frowned. “What’s with the attitude?”

Senna didn’t answer.

“I just wanted to apologize about last night.” Tonks said.

“For what?” Senna’s blush deepened. 

To Senna’s surprise, Tonks blushed too. Her pink hair became a shade darker. “Well… uh… nothing. I mean—you seemed pretty upset when I let you go, so I thought—” She paused, thinking.

Senna could not read her thoughts, but she had a feeling she knew what she had apologized for. She remembered it very clearly, so clearly it sent a thick bolt of heat down her spine. Tonks had touched her lips when she was trapped on the stone floor. It had felt so good, she had wished Tonks hadn’t stopped. But the unforgettable part was the look in Tonks’s eyes. The burning look of lust. When Tonks bit down on her own lip with that look in her eyes, Senna had almost combusted on the spot. But it was silly, she was embarrassed to have felt that way. It was just a touch, it’s not like she kissed her, Senna told herself. She must have misread the look in her eye, there couldn’t have been anything there. 

Her cheeks were flaming. Tonks observed her curiously. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She wished she could escape. Perhaps cast a disillusionment charm and run away, but she knew that would not work. Tonks was far more observant than she first realized, and wasn’t going to underestimate her again. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Senna lied.

“All right then.” Tonks had regained her composure. “Have a good night.” 

“Right.” Senna said as she turned around. But she could not get her feet to move forward. Her brain was screaming for her to run away, but the other, less dignified parts of herself did not agree. It was the parts of her that recognized how good it felt to be under her touch, even one as simple as a thumb against her lip. And that part of her wanted it again. And more. 

No. She had to ignore it.

“What’s wrong?” Tonks asked, a hint of a grin in her voice. “Afraid of the dark?”

“Of course n—”

But Tonks had already jumped forward, grabbing her tightly by the waist. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll escort you.”

She groaned internally. What had she done? Senna was horrified, but the beast inside her bounced with glee. The feel of her hand around her waist was amazing. If only she could hold tighter. And her perfume made her want to lean in closer, snuggle against the well-muscled frame of this beautiful Auror. 

Tonks skipped forward happily, towing her in the direction of the Brownwell quarters. Senna contemplated protesting, but each time she tried, the request died on her tongue. 

“Here we are!” She exclaimed. 

But before they reached their destination, Tonks had tripped over something, sending them both to the ground. Besides the small gasp that left Tonks’s lips, they landed on the damp grass rather soundlessly. 

Senna was at least grateful that that neither of them had landed on top of the other—that would have been cliché. Senna pushed herself back up and walkover over to Tonks, who had seemed to have slid a few feet farther. 

“You okay?” Senna asked her. 

Tonks groaned, but stood. “Yeah.”

Tonks had a streak of mud across her face. 

Senna could not help herself, she had begun to laugh. She laughed so hard, she had to lean on her knees to keep upright.

Tonks, unaware of the mud on her face, look indignant. “There must have been a branch or something.”

“Your—” Senna gasped for breath between laughing fits, “Your face!” She finally said. 

Tonks lifted a hand to pat her face. It came away with mud. Her surprised expression sent another wave of laughter through Senna.

Pink in the face and annoyed, Tonks stood, before glaring at Senna. 

“Well,” She dusted off her robes. “Here you are.”

Senna spoke up when she turned to leave. “Sorry, I'm sorry I laughed.”

Tonks halted and turned her head. “It's okay. I'm dead clumsy. Almost failed the Auror practical exam because of it.” She laughed. 

“I don't think so.”

Tonks raised an eyebrow. She didn't need to read thoughts to know what she was thinking. Did you not just see me fall on my face just now?

“I think you're pretty coordinated. When you cursed me yesterday, I don't think I've ever seen anyone move that fast—or hit an invisible target that accurately.”

Tonks’s face, which was just starting to return to its normal color, turned pink again. She laughed, a full, hearty sound. Senna liked her laugh. 

“I'm not that clumsy with magic, thank goodness for that.” She chuckled. “I am an Auror.”

“How did you know?” Senna asked her. She was dying to know the flaw I'm her disillusionment charm. “How did you know I was there, in the corridor?”

Tonks smiled. Her perpetually happy grin was infectious. Senna could not help but smile back, even though there was not nothing particularly amusing about the current situation. 

“Hmmm, intuition maybe? I had the feeling I wasn't alone. But I wasn't sure until I heard you exhale.” She wiped at the mud on her face. “That was an excellent disillusionment charm though. Perfectly cast. Maybe you should think about a career as an Auror, but then again, it would be hard to imagine a pretty girl like you doing that kind of job.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. Senna did not like being referred to as dainty or weak. Her time as an orphan had toughened her. The Clearcil Orphanage was a religious institution which relied heavily on donations, and sometimes, those donations were not enough to keep everyone fed comfortably. Senna had relied on other means to acquire food and money—stealing. It did not adhere to the strict morals the orphans were expected uphold, but Senna never cared. She had snuck into houses, stores, and warehouses, becoming very good at stealth by the time she was admitted into Brownwell. She had to learn quick—getting caught led to disastrous results. She was able to evade the danger with her life intact, outrunning armed guards with aerobic efforts and stamina. Many of her scars had come from those experiences, diving under fences and trashcans, climbing heights that would normally be impossible to escape through a window, climbing trees to avoid guard dogs, and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. She was quick, coordinated, and a lot stronger than she looked. 

“Don’t underestimate me.” Senna warned. “I’m not weak.”

Tonks’s eye widened in innocence. “I wasn’t implying so.”

Senna took a deep, calming breath. She was getting heated over little things again. Her temper had always been a burden. If she had only been a calmer child, she probably would’ve had friends at Brownwell. 

Embarrassed by her sudden outburst, she hurried to close the dialogue. “Good night, Tonks.”

Tonks winked at her, whether it was playful or suggestive, Senna couldn’t tell. It made her stomach flutter uncomfortably. 

“Good night.” Tonks leapt forward, quickly pecking Senna on the cheek before turning around and vanishing into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The girls of Brownwell spoke excitedly to each other, comparing schedules and chatting about the different curriculum. Senna stood in her corner, staring at her own schedule. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, a free period after lunch, and then Potions. They were taught by Alastor Moody, Filius Flitwick, and Severus Snape respectively. 

Her eyes were glued to the page where it read Severus Snape. Reading it had caused her heart to lurch into overdrive. What were the chances? Her own full name was Senna Severus Snape. Was it possible that she had a relative here in Great Britain? She read the name again. And again. No, she told herself, it must be a coincidence. Senna lived in an entirely different country. Maybe Severus and Snape were common names in Europe. 

When Senna left the hot air balloon basket that morning, there was a strange spark of hope in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a clue to her past.

Even though she told herself she wouldn’t get excited about the whole similar-name thing, she couldn’t help herself. During breakfast, Senna leaned over to Hannah. 

“What kind of teacher is Professor Snape?” Senna asked.

‘Godawful. Cynical. Malicious. The worst teacher by far.’

“Ummm…” Hannah thought, “He’s not very nice. Actually, he’s quite awful. Most people hate potions because of him.”

“Really? Is he really that bad?” Senna’s heart constricted. 

Senna caught glimpses of a pale, sallow faced man through her mind. In these images, he was insulting Hufflepuffs, calling them inept from their poor performance. In another memory he was docking house points from Gryffindor for no apparent reason. 

She nodded feverishly, “Yes, he’s just atrocious. Unless you’re in Sytherin. He’s the head of their house, and he plays favorites.” 

Senna was not quite as excited to meet this person, but she swore to reserve judgement until she met him in person. 

After breakfast, Hannah pointed Senna in the direction of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Hannah did not have N.E.W.T level Defense Against the Dark Arts. As she walked, a   
group of Brownwells spotted her and gave her a wide margin of space to pass through. She caught their terrified expressions. Senna sighed. Overreaction, as usual. Some things would never change, would they? 

“I can teach you every counter-curse in the book, every shield spell to date, but the only thing that will save you in the face of a dark wizard is constant vigilance!” Professor Moody started his class, limping around on his wooden leg. He was a battered man, missing an eye, chunks of his face, a leg, and was covered in many scars. Students watched him warily, flinching when he got too close. 

“Nonverbal jinxes and hexes give you the advantage of covertness. The second your opponent knows what your next move is, you’re dead. That infinitesimal amount of time gained can mean the difference between life and death.” He spat. “Now! We’re going to practice again. Split up into pairs. Hurry up.” 

This class had started a month ago, and she had no idea where in the book they were now. She had read the first couple chapters, but she hadn’t counted on starting off with practical. Practical was fine with her though—Senna was great at nonverbal spells, jinxes, hexes, and shields, more so than even skilled adults. Whatever it was, she could figure it out in a heartbeat. The trouble was finding a partner. She looked around, already ruling out all the Brownwell students. 

A pair of twin boys with disheveled red hair winked at her simultaneously. 

‘Hey girl, feel my sweater. Know what that’s made of? Boyfriend material.’

‘I’ve been banned from the library, but do you mind if I check you out?’

Senna almost laughed out loud. But she wasn’t interested. She probably would’ve liked boys better—if she couldn’t see into their minds. She turned away, scanning the room to find a partner before the twin redheads could approach her. A few seats away, a girl with curly auburn hair was hunched over her DADA book, oblivious to her surroundings. Taking a deep breath, she approached her.

“Hello.” Senna said.

The girl did not look up. She didn’t seem to have heard her at all.

“Do you have a partner yet?” Senna asked her.

Senna observed the unmoving girl for a moment. She was about to turn away when the girl spoke. “No.” She said without looking up from her book, “But I suppose you’ll do.”

A flash of irritation bubbled up Senna’s stomach, working its way to her throat. She wanted to say something to her, but held back.

“Great.” Senna mumbled.   
The girl didn’t move from her position. Everyone else was already in formation, facing their partner with wands raised.

“Ummm… Should we get started?” Senna suggested.

The girl slammed her book shut in irritation and stood. She sighed.

Well sorry to bother you with your class requirements, Senna thought. Senna eyed her opponent. Her green and silver lined robes and emerald tie told her that this girl was in Slytherin. She was a head shorter than Senna, although this was not unusual. Senna was about a head or two taller than most girls her age. She felt an unusual flutter in her chest when her eyes landed on the girls face. She was very pretty. She had striking green eyes that were cold and fierce, curly waist-length auburn hair, and prominent cheekbones.

‘Hope this girl knows what she’s doing. Most of these losers are a waste of my time.’

“Viola.” She said in a bored voice. “Viola Richmond.”

“Senna.”

“Senna what?” She asked impatiently. 

“Senna Snape.” 

Viola’s green eyes widened in surprise. “Are you related to Professor Snape?”

Another flutter in Senna’s stomach. “Not sure. At least, I don’t think so.”

“How do you not know? Don’t you have parents?” 

Viola was really starting to get on Senna’s nerves. “No actually, I don’t.”

Viola blinked, taken aback. As cold as Viola was, she seemed to realize that she crossed some sort of line. A tinge of pink colored her cheekbones. “Oh.” 

Professor Moody spoke then. “Quit lagging, you know the drill. Hurry up and get started!” His magical eye whirled towards Senna and Viola.

They drew their wands and stood in standard dueling formation. “You jinx and I block?” Senna offered.

“Why not?” 

‘Impedimenta!’ Viola yelled in her head.

‘Protego!’ Senna thought immediately. 

The white-blue light of her jinx collided with Senna’s shield charm, lighting it up like a glowing half-orb around Senna’s body. Senna flicked her wand upwards infinitesimally, letting the jinx rebound upwards, as to not hit any of the other students. 

‘Expelliarmus!’ Senna thought as soon as the shield retracted.

Viola tried to block it in return, but she was not as quick as Senna. Her wand flew out of her hand and clattered onto the floor. 

‘Blimey, she’s not bad.’ Viola thought grudgingly. Viola ducked around the other dueling students and stepping out of the way of misaimed jinxes to retrieve her wand.

Professor Moody approached them. When he reached them, Viola was already back, wand in hand.

“That was quite the shield charm. Very powerful, especially for a nonverbal incantation.” He praised with a hoarse voice. “And you are—?” 

“Senna Snape.”

“Ahhh. Related to our famous Severus Snape then?” The way he spoke his name with a sneer made it clear that this was not someone he liked.

“I don’t think so.” Senna replied. 

“Alright then. And Richmond, a very well-casted nonverbal jinx. Looks like you’ve finally met your match.” He grunted in amusement before hobbling away on his wooden leg.

Senna and Viola continued to duel. Viola was very good at nonverbal jinxes and hexes, in fact she was probably the best in the class, besides Senna. Around them, students cheated by muttering incantations under their breath, and when they managed to cast it wordlessly, it was a very feeble version of the spell. As good as Viola was, she was not as good with the shield charm. When it was Senna’s turn to jinx, her jinx had broken through Viola’s shield two times in a row. 

By the end of the lesson, Viola was able to block Senna’s jinx—but had to mouth the incantation silently. Viola’s face was red with exertion and frustration. Senna could hear her thoughts and knew she was not used to being outmatched. She was used to being the best of everything. Senna could sympathize with the girl. Senna was used to the very same thing, being outmatched would be very frustrating indeed. 

When they were dismissed, Viola stormed out ahead of Senna.

Hannah was waiting for Senna outside the DADA classroom door. When she spotted Senna, she pushed herself off the wall, and walked up to her, smiling. “We have Charms together. I wasn’t sure if you knew where the classroom was, so I ran here to walk you.”

Senna smiled back. She was starting to feel a lot of affection for this girl, she was much kinder to her than she deserved. 

She enjoyed Charms with the Hufflepuffs, laughing at their jokes when Professor Flitwick had turned his back. A Ravenclaw boy had made fun of Ernie, calling him Ernie-Burnie, for managing to burn his vinegar, making it smoke and catch fire. After putting out the fire, Senna silently hexed the Ravenclaw boy from under her desk, giving him a tail. The entire class laughed hysterically as he was whisked away to the hospital wing to have it removed. 

After lunch, Senna and her friends parted ways. Senna had a free period, but Hannah and her friends had Care of Magical Creatures. 

Senna stopped at the library doorway. She doubted any of the books on the Triwizard Tournament had been returned yet. Where could she find information on the tournament? She didn’t know any of the Hogwarts teachers well enough to drop by their offices. Maybe that pesky Auror could help her. 

She spun around, and made her way through the corridors, tracing the path where she knew Tonks’s patrol route was. She encountered peeves, and had to dodge several water balloons. When he chased her, she ran around a corner, casting the disillusionment charm on herself, before hiding behind a suit of armor.

When the coast was clear, she continued her search, but didn’t find her. Maybe she only patrolled at night. What did the Aurors do while they weren’t on patrol? Senna gave up, heading back to the library.

The sound of water splashing, a gasp, and then a loud thud echoed loudly through the hall. Senna chuckled. Looks like the poltergeist got someone this time. The voice in the distance cursed at him, threatening to call the Bloody Barren. Senna stopped. She recognized that voice. 

She turned swiftly, running towards Tonks’s voice. 

“You’re a graceful little swan, aren’t you?” A man’s voice laughed.

Tonks was not alone. Senna stopped abruptly, only a corner away from them now. Deciding it was not the best time, Senna turned back around, but did not move—she was curious. 

“Shut it, Proudfoot. I outrank you.” Tonks snarled.

“Pft.” Proudfoot scoffed. “I really don’t know how that happened.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you how.” 

“Put away your wand. We have more important things to do.”

“Right.” She grudgingly agreed. 

“Dawlish saw two death eaters on his Hogsmeade patrol, but Dumbledore’s not worried. He’s doesn’t seem to think they can break through our defenses.”

“Blimey!” She gasped. “They probably can’t, but it depends on which death eaters we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know.” 

“They’re not going to let the students out to Hogsmeade this weekend are they?”

“Depends. Dumbledore thinks they were just passing through, checking our defenses. If our Friday night patrol comes out clean, Dumbledore is going to give the go-ahead to the students.”

“Well if he thinks it’s safe, we should trust him.” Tonks agreed.

“I don’t think so. I think he’s a little too relaxed about this whole thing. The dark prince is up to something, and we can’t afford to wait it out.” They began walking again, their voices getting quieter with distance.

Tonks sighed. “Well what do you want to do about it?”

Their conversation continued, but they were too far away now for Senna to hear.

Death eaters in the area? That was not a good sign for the tournament. 

Senna’s heart pounded nervously. She stood outside the dungeon where Potions would be held. She was being silly—she knew it. Chances were, she was not related to this man. But she couldn’t help but be both worried and excited.

Students pushed passed her, mumbling angrily about blocking the entrance. She took a deep breath and entered. She scanned the classroom. The majority of the class consisted of Gryffindors and Slytherins, with the occasional transfer student. Lee Jordan winked at her from the back of the classroom. She turned away, pretending she did not notice. She spotted Viola Richmond with her nose pressed against the potions book. There was a small group of Brownwells who glanced up at her, looking terrified that she might decide to come sit with them. She contemplated sitting away from everybody else, especially the other Brownwells who made her stomach boil with rage, but then she remembered her goals for this year. Win the Tournament. Show everyone she was going to be the greatest witch of all time. Make friends.

She took a seat next to Lee, who greeted her warmly. She didn’t meet his gaze, worried she would tempted to punch him in the face if she heard his thoughts. 

Professor Snape stood from his desk, dropping his lesson plan onto the desk with a loud bang. The room silenced immediately. 

He was a tall and thin man with pale skin, a hooked nose, and shoulder-length black hair which framed his pale face with midnight curtains. He wore flowing black robes and a permanent scowl on his face. 

“Ah. How nice of the transfer students to join us.” He sneered at the variety of students pouring into the dungeon. “I don’t know how much idiocy your schools tolerated, but here at Hogwarts, only the smartest, most devoted students will be able to grasp the science and art of potion-making.”

Silence followed. Hannah was right, he was rather unpleasant. 

“Okay let see who we have here,” Professor Snape took out a roll of parchment, glaring down at it as if it contained cockroaches instead of names. “From Beauxbatons, I have Bertrand Allan Trouvé, Abelin Barreau, and Clotilde Jacquet. Is that correct?” When there was no response, he continued. “And Durmstrang, let’s see—Dagfinn Skaug, Ester Stigen, Rigmor Thanem, and Svanhild Overbey?” The Durmstrang students nodded at him. 

My heart began to race forward. Would he made the same assumption that Viola and Professor Moody did?

“Brownwell. Caleb Chambers, Cassidy Perkins, James West, Natasha Barnes, and Se—” He began to choke and covered his mouth, letting the parchment roll up again. His black eyes were wide with disbelief. He scanned the room, looking at five transfer students in Brownwell uniforms. His eyes lingered on the three girls, trying to decide which one was Senna.

Senna’s heart was racing faster now, her fear had come true. She desperately hoped her face didn’t betray her position. Thankfully, he didn’t stare too long before opening up the parchment again to continue.

“Senna Severus Snape.” He said quietly. 

As if on que, every Brownwell student, and the few Hogwarts students who knew her name turned to stare at her, and soon, everyone’s eyes followed theirs. Senna could no longer hold her poker face. Scorching heat crept into her face, and she cursed at herself for it. Once this torturous class was over, she was going to lock herself in the dorms until she could control her emotions. 

Snape’s black eyes followed their gazes and landed on Senna. Her heart lunched. His black eyes were like tunnels, drilling into her. He studied her with an unreadable expression, and it made her very uneasy. There was something there, in his intense black eyes, but she couldn’t make out what emotion he was feeling. This nerve-wracking moment seemed to last for hours. Then, he tore his eyes away from her and returned to the lesson. 

Finally, she was able to breathe again. 

"The Draught of Living Death is a very powerful sleeping potion that can be made by adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood…" Professor Snape began.

“Hey.” Lee whispered into her ear.

She ignored him.

“Are you his daughter or something?”

Senna knocked over her ink bottle in shock. It spilled onto both their robes. They both stood up, trying to escape the rest of the ink that dripped from the table’s edge. 

Everyone, including Professor Snape, turned to see what the commotion was about. 

“What the bloody hell are you two doing?” He snapped. 

“Sorry, I spilled—” Senna started.

“Detention! Both of you.” He bellowed. “And five points from Gryffindor.” He stalked over to the ruined desk, his face furious. With a wave of his wand, he cleared the spilled ink.

Senna brewed her potion with her back turned towards Lee. She was angry that he had gotten her in trouble—although it wasn’t rational. He wasn’t the one who knocked over the ink. She had made this particular potion before. It wasn’t an easy potion by any means. She had been in honors potions. The instructions in this book were very identical to her potions book back home. Nevertheless, she had her own way of doing things. Twelve—not thirteen, sopophorous beans should be crushed with the silver dagger, not cut. She found that it released more juice that way. She also added a clockwise stir every seven anticlockwise stirs, while the book just called for anticlockwise. 

Soon, after very meticulous calculations and incantations, Senna’s potion was nearly clear. Lee looked over at her brew, astonished. And he wasn’t the only one. Several people were turning their heads to see Senna’s success. The others were not having such luck. Lee’s had turned a cloudy blue, and everyone else seem to have cloudy shades as well.

“How are you doing that?” Lee whispered behind her.

“Don’t talk to me.” She hissed.

Snape glided over to their side of the classroom. He stood directly over Senna’s brew, but she did not look up. She was still angry about being given detention. Lee, cowered back into his seat.

“Jordan, I dare say your potion would pretty much kill anyone who drinks it. Did you add Valerian roots before or after the beans?” 

“I don’t remember Professor.”

“Ahh, maybe you would remember next time if we tested out this potion on you?”

Lee did not say anything.

“And Snape.” He grumbled as if saying his own name was blasphemy. “You might not be an idiot like the rest of your peers after all.”

Senna looked up at him, glaring directly into his cold black eyes. “No, Sir.” She glanced back at the other Brownwells, whose potions were emitting thick black smoke. 

Professor Snape’s face changed then. The corner of his lips turned upward until he was very nearly grinning. He looked both amused and impressed. For a small moment, he looked like a different man. But as soon as she saw it—it was gone, his usual scowl back in place.

“An aptitude for potions means being precise, intelligent, cunning, and perceptive. Only the most brilliant of students can master such a tricky art. You would do very well in my house, in Slytherin.”

Despite his bitter attitude, her heart swelled from the compliment. He seemed like someone who rarely gave compliments. 

And then he walked away, insulting other students as he passed them, clearing away their failed potions. 

“Jordan, Snape, stay after class. And Snape, don’t clear your cauldron yet.” 

The other students vanished the contents of their cauldrons and began to pack up. When they filed out, Lee and Senna approached his desk. 

“You two will have detention with me tonight. Jordan, you will be gutting frogs for me, I need two pounds of frog livers. The frog buckets will be by the west garden. Don’t bring gloves.” Lee groaned. Senna felt queasy. Would she have to do something equally as gross? “Jordan, you’re dismissed.” 

Lee disappeared through the dungeon doors, his shoulders hunched. Professor Snape turned to Senna. “Would you mind if you left your potion brewing through the next class? Perfectly done Draught of Living Death is hard to come by. If I brew it for another hour, it can be bottled and used.”

Senna was both astonished and proud. A student’s potion was rarely ever good enough to be usable. But what on earth would he use it for? “Yes you can, Sir.”

He walked over to her cauldron, analyzing it again. Then he stirred it anticlockwise seven times, then clockwise, just as she had. “I’ve never had a student brew a potion of this complexity with such precise results. Even master potion makers have trouble with this one.” 

He seemed more relaxed now, not being surrounded by students. His scowl was less pronounced and his voice was not as harsh. 

“I admire potion-making. The sheer complexity and magic of it is not something a lot of people appreciate to its fullest.” Senna told him. 

He did not say anything, his eyes were still on Senna’s Draught. But she swear she saw his head nod minutely.

“I have something else for you to do for detention.” Professor Snape told her. “Meet me at my office at eight. I’ll also return your cauldron then.”

She was dismissed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Snape’s POV:

Severus’s quill threatened to snap under his clenched fists, but he paid no attention. The report Dumbledore asked him for, regarding his latest mission for the Order of the Phoenix, seemed like a faraway dream. 

It was her.

She was here. Within the walls of Hogwarts. 

Snape clenched his hands tighter to keep them from shaking. Under too much strain, his quill snapped in two, spilling ink all over his blank parchment. He cursed, tossed the soiled parchment in the trash, and grabbed a new quill and parchment.

He never imaged—never dreamed that she would someday stroll into one of his lessons. She was supposed to be somewhere far away, unfindable, unreachable, and untouchable. And here she was, residing in the very place he and his sister risked everything to keep her from.   
Snape stood then, much too restless to write that report. 

Voldemort wanted an heir. Not as a successor, but as a tool. Of course he would never let a soul exist if they had the potential to surpass him—for he alone was going to rule the world. He would not share that glory with anyone. Voldemort already planned on killing the child if he showed the potential of surpassing his own power. 

He needed a tool that could operate the powerful artifacts left behind by Slytherin, which could only be controlled by Parseltongue, in his absence. This heir would also be able to perform some of the most powerful dark spells that required Parseltongue incantations, so was therefore lost to everyone else but him. 

He chose from the most loyal of his female followers. Of course Bellatrix was the first to offer. She would have wanted nothing more than the honor of bearing his child. Being a powerful pureblooded witch, she was a good candidate, but she was married, and Voldemort did not want someone who belonged to someone else. ‘Distasteful’, he had said. So Voldemort chose Elena Snape, Severus’s younger sister. She was young, and had not been a death eater for very long, not long enough to have proved herself most loyal. But she was a powerful witch. She was also highly intelligent and very gifted, so Voldemort marked her as his surrogate.

Elena had not liked this. He remembered the conference when this was decided. Bellatrix was purple with rage and envy. Elena had turned very pale and a layer of perspiration dewed on her forehead. She had not displayed enthusiasm, but responded with a shaky ‘Yes, my lord’.   
Elena then looked over at Severus for help, but he could not help her. He did not like this idea either, but he had no say in the matter. Once you were a Death Eater, your life, your soul, and everything you had to offer, belonged to the Dark Lord. 

Only Severus and Narcissa Malfoy were there for the birth. Voldemort had better things to do than watch the birth of his own child. They couldn’t take her to St. Mungo’s, Elena was a wanted Death Eater and criminal. But she was in capable hands. Severus knew a lot of healing magic, and had a stash of potions ready in case something went wrong. 

Eventually, the twins were born. One boy and one girl. 

That was the first dilemma to take care of. Voldemort wanted an heir—specifically, a son. If she presented him with the twins, he would likely kill the second born girl. If Elena presented him with just a daughter, he would probably kill her and make them try again. If she presented him with just a son, he might be—just might be—contented. Even if somehow, he didn’t kill the baby girl, there was no point in dooming them both to a life of servitude. There was no hope of escape for Elena’s son, but there was hope for her daughter. 

She named her son Struan Tobias, and her daughter, Senna Severus. Severus reprimanded her for this decision. Naming her after Severus and their grandmother would be too recognizable, especially if Snape were her surname. But she was unyielding. That was to be her name. 

So that night, Severus escaped with his newborn niece in his arms, and fled far away. He left the city, left Great Britain, and then left the European continent all together. He ventured to a place far from the reaches of Voldemort, and far from any sort of magical dwelling. Someday, she would realize she was a witch. Maybe someday, if her magical power was discovered, she may even be given a magical education. But she was far away now, and safe. No one here would hear her name and know her roots. There were millions of witches and wizards in the world, and nearly seven billion people on this planet. What were the chances? 

He took one last look at the pink-faced infant. It was very cold, if they did not discover her soon, she would freeze to death. So he covered the bundle with his traveling cloak, knocked loudly on the orphanage door, and hid in the shadows of another building. Senna did not cry when he left her on the orphanage steps. He watched and waited. 

An older woman wearing a nun’s dress opened the door and gasped. She picked up the bundle wrapped in the black cloak and disappeared through the door, closing it behind her.

There were only four people Severus was sure knew of the girl’s existence. Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore—told by Severus, Elena Snape, and Narcissa Malfoy. Perhaps Minerva McGonagall knew as well. 

Severus paced back and forth in his office. He brought a hand to his temple to massage his growing headache. 

But she was here now, right in the heart of danger. Or was she? Her greatest danger—Lord Voldemort—had been vanquished by the Potter boy thirteen years ago. 

But what would Prince Struan do if he found out he had a sister? Seek her out? Destroy or recruit her? Or perhaps he would not care. Struan was very different from his father, but by no means was he any less cruel. 

Or perhaps she was the danger? What would she do if she discovered she was the offspring of the most powerful dark wizard of all time? Would she join forces with the dark and strive to walk in her father’s footsteps? 

It was difficult to speculate, he had so little knowledge about her. She walked with an air of grace. The way she stood with her shoulders pressed back and her chin in the air told Severus that she determined, and thought highly of herself—as she should. She was very beautiful, and given her performance in potions, she may be very gifted as well. 

But something about her appearance stirred uneasily in his stomach. When she had looked up at him from her brewing potion, her eyes were hard and cold. They seemed resentful. And lonely. These were things Severus often saw in his own reflection, and knew that it never led people in the right direction. They were the two emotions that often brought out the worst in people—including himself. 

~~~ 

Senna’s POV:

Hannah raised an eyebrow at Senna as she wolfed down her dinner.

“What’s the hurry?” Hannah asked her.

“Detention,” Senna answered, “I don’t want to be late.”

Hannah seemed shocked. “What did you do?” 

“Potions. It was all Jordan’s fault.” Senna grumbled. “He kept talking to me during Professor Snape’s lecture, and landed us both detention.” 

Hannah cringed on Senna’s behalf. “I’m so sorry, that stinks.”

Senna sighed, but did not reply. She was not perturbed, she was curious. She had a feeling it would not be as unpleasant as Jordan’s detention. But that could just be her subconscious over-estimating the impressed look Professor Snape gave her earlier that day. 

After scarfing down the last of her dinner, Senna left the Great Hall. She descended the stone stairs in search of the dungeons. 

“Oi, why aren’t you at dinner with everyone else?” A woman’s voice echoed down from the staircase. 

It was Tonks. Senna groaned.

Senna’s heart jumped. She froze in the deserted corridor and Tonks jogged down the staircase to catch up to her. On one of the last steps, Tonks’s foot missed its target, and as if in slow motion, Tonks flew forward.

Thinking quickly, Senna drew her wand. Impedimenta!

The velocity of Tonks’s body immediately slowed to a crawl. She then floated gently to the floor. 

Breathing hard, Tonks pushed herself onto her knees. Senna held out a hand to help her up. Grateful, she took it. Her hand was warm and strong, and it gripped hers firmly. She tried not to think about how those hands felt when they had roamed her body on their second encounter. But she failed, and the images from that day flooded into her mind. She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. 

“Ahh that was some quick wand work.” She huffed, “Thanks for that. That would have really hurt.” Tonks eyed the stone ground with a grimace. 

“No problem.” Senna turned around to continue making her way to Snape’s office.

“Wait,” Tonks demanded. She recovered her authoritative air and placed her hands on her hips. “Where are you going? You should be in the great hall having dinner.” 

“I have detention,” Senna said nonchalantly, “with Professor Snape.”

Tonks cringed just like Hannah had done. Were his detentions that bad? “Blimey, that sucks.” She thought for a moment. “Funny, I thought you to be the studious type, not the delinquent type.”

A flash of irritation went through Senna. “I’m not a delinquent.” Senna hissed through her teeth. “It wasn’t my fault. It was that prat Lee Jordan.”

“Right.” Tonks rolled her eyes.

Another flash of irritation went through her. “Really, it was.”

“Not a lot of students can manage to get detention on their first day.” Tonks winked and then grinned at her. 

Did she think this was funny? With her wand was still in her hand, Senna was tempted to jinx the grin off her face. She tightened her grip on her wand. 

As if reading her thoughts, Tonks’s eyes flickered to Senna’s wand hand, then back to her face. Her grin widened. She gave Senna a look as if daring her to try anything. Tonks’s hazel eyes twinkled in their mockery. Senna considered it for a moment, but decided against it. She might have—Auror or not, if that grin wasn’t so sexy. That mischievous grin made her heart beat unevenly in her chest.

Senna put her wand away in the pocket of her white blazer—part of the standard Brownwell uniform. 

Tonks stepped forward. “What time is your detention?”

“Eight.” Senna grumbled. 

“Eight?” Tonks pulled out a gold pocket watch from her robes. “It’s only six-forty-five. Why do you need to be so early? Snape is still eating.” Tonks looked at her suspiciously. 

Senna flushed. Tonks was right. She hadn’t been paying attention to time, and she was way too early. She was preoccupied. Truthfully, she was desperate to know more about him. She wanted to know if they were related and somehow thought this detention would hold the answers. 

Feeling embarrassed, Senna wracked her brain for excuses, but came up empty. So she settled for a partial truth. “Err… Right.” Senna stammered. “I’ll kill some time in the library I guess.”

Senna turned to leave, but was stopped by a firm grip around her upper arm. Senna turned around, only to be pushed against the stone wall. Senna gasped in surprise. It was very uncharacteristic for Tonks.

Senna looked up into Tonks’s eyes, trying to find the reason for her sudden pounce. But it was difficult to figure the situation out, Senna was too distracted. Her mind was swimming with the sudden assault of sensations going through her body. Tonks’s toned body pressing hers against the wall. She could feel her firm breasts pressing into her chest, her hips pushing her own against the wall. It was all very arousing. She cursed at herself—why must she feel such things at inappropriate times?

But when Senna’s mind stopped swimming long enough to capture Tonks’s gaze, her heart lurched into overdrive. Her eyes were dark and lustful, and she felt them burning into her. Senna stared back at those dark eyes for a long moment, feeling each heartbeat pounding painfully harder. What was Tonks doing? What was she thinking? 

Senna couldn’t stop her gaze from glancing down to her lips. God, they looked soft. The thought of how her lips would feel made her abdomen tighten uncomfortably. 

Tonks shook her head, clearing it. Whatever had possessed her so suddenly was now gone. Tonks’s eyes were back to its normal hazel color—and she looked very ashamed. 

“Um, sorry bout that.” She stepped away from her.

Senna was more confused than angry. And if she could admit to herself—disappointed. Why was Tonks behaving this way? Maybe she was like this one everyone. Antagonizing one moment and then aggressive the next.

Tonks blushed furiously. “Go ahead to the library. Sorry I stopped you.” 

But Senna did not move. She knew now that the lust in her eyes was not a figment of her imagination. It was real, and Tonks’s actions just proved it. But what should she say to her? She didn't know what she wanted from Tonks, let alone how to say it. 

“Why did you do that?” Senna asked her. 

With her head turned the other way, Senna couldn't see her face, but her pink hair had turned a shade of red. “I don't know. Sorry. Just forget about it.” She waved a hand and began to walk away.

Senna stepped forward and stopped her with a hand on her arm. “No.” She refused, “Tell me what it is you want from me. Don't think I didn't notice how you touched me when you caught me sneaking around under the disillusionment charm. Or do you do this to every girl you meet?” Senna blushed too. It was embarrassing to hear it out loud. 

Tonks flinched under her accusations. “No I don't.” She lowered her voice. “Just you.”

Senna should've been disturbed, repulsed even. But instead, she took pleasure in those words. Just you. 

Why, she wanted to ask, but thought better of it. She didn't know Tonks very well, but knew she would not answer truthfully. Not yet. 

Tonks turned to face her, resolve strong in her eyes. “It won't—”

Senna placed a finger on her lips to silence her. She knew she was going to say it won't happen again, and she didn't want to hear it. For a reason she had yet to figure out, she didn't want it to stop. She enjoyed their few awkward encounters that made her blood run hot.

She tried to ignore how Tonks’s lips were just as soft as she’d imagined. “Don't bother.” Senna told her.

She saw the resolve wavering in her eyes, replaced by confusion and a hint of lust. Her lips parted slightly, and the hot breath that touched her finger made her shiver. 

She withdrew her finger. “I'm going to library now.” Senna quickly leaned in, placed her lips gently on her cheek in farewell, and darted back up the stairs, leaving the dazed Auror in the dark corridor. 

Senna did not have much luck in the library. None of the books that contained information on the tournament were returned yet. There was not even a trace of Hogwarts, A History. Perhaps, if the situation allowed it, she could ask Professor Snape. She spent her hour with her nose deep in A Guide to Hexing your Foes. Senna knew a lot of hexes. By her second year, she knew more hexes than most of the seventh-years did. She didn’t put the book down until she found three new ways she could hex Lee Jordan.

Senna stood at the door to Professor Snape’s office, hesitating. Why was she nervous? Swallowing her fears, she knocked twice. 

“Come in.” Snape’s voice said, muffled from the wooden door between them. 

Senna let herself in, observing the jars of eye balls, herbs, and other sinister ingredients as she passed. She stopped at Snape’s desk. He ignored her, writing furiously on a piece of parchment. She followed the spatters of ink on the table and saw a pile of broken quills, their broken tips dripping ink into the bin. That was odd. Why had he broken his quills? 

He stood up very suddenly and rolled up his parchment. “Sit.” He commanded, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. Senna obeyed. “I want a list of seven antidotes to uncommon poisons and I want you to summarize how they’re made. When you’re done with that, list the ingredients needed to brew the Antidote to Veritaserum, and the top mistakes amateur potion makers make when brewing this concoction.” Snape pointed to the rolls of blank parchment. “I’m going to the owlry, I’ll be right back. Don’t even think about cheating.” And he was gone, closing the door behind him. 

This wasn’t so bad. She was familiar with all those things. She had studied these things on her own as they weren’t included in the regular curriculum. It was just like an exam—and Senna was good at those. She exhaled in relief, and picked up a quill to start. 

Snape came in a few minutes later, but she did not dare look up from her parchment. He sat across from her on his chair.

It was quiet—too quiet, but she wouldn’t dare take a peek until she was done. A half-an-hour passed and her hand began to cramp up. She pushed through it.

An hour passed. Her hand was protesting painfully, but she was almost done. She was just adding the last few brewing mistakes that amateurs often made where Veritaserum Antidote was concerned. 

Finished. She placed her quill down on the desk and looked up at Snape for the first time since she got here. He was staring back at her, his black eyes focused on her face. She flinched away from the intensity of his stare, although it wasn’t malicious. It seemed gauging, like he was trying to figure something out. 

And she did the same. She observed him too, trying to find any likeness of herself in him. But the hooked nose and sallow face did not seem familiar to her. His gaze seemed somehow tormented, as if existing was an exhausting chore. That was something Senna often saw in herself. She had spent most of her life feared and friendless. It left her bitter and morose—until the hope of a new start had arisen from the Triwizard Tournament. 

What was the reason for his torment? 

~~~ 

Snape’s POV:

Snape tried to look away casually when he got caught, pretending to look at something fascinating on the shelves. He did not want to make it seem like he had been staring at her for very long, even though he had been staring at her for the whole hour. 

She got most of her looks from her father. He’d seen pictures of him, in the hall of past prefects. He was a very handsome man with dark walnut-brown hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones, a defined jaw line, and a body that looked like it was sculpted by a god. Of course, this was before his soul was mutilated to the point where he was hardly even human. She resembled that perfection in its feminine form. She had some of her mother too. Her hair was midnight black which fell gracefully over her shoulders and down to her waist. When writing, she furrowed her delicate brows together in concentration—the same way Elena Snape had done when they were in school.

“I’m finished.” She told him. 

Earlier this morning, he was compelled to have her come to his office, and had been anxious about this moment for the entire day. But now, he could not think of a single thing to say. What did he expect this to be? A family reunion? 

No, it was better that she didn’t know. He could not allow her to know. It would be far too dangerous. And what would she do when she found out? No little girl dreams about being the child of the most awful dark wizard in the world. 

Without a word, he held out a hand to collect it. 

“You are dismissed. Return straight to your quarters.” He told her.

He saw her face fall infinitesimally, as if she were expecting something else. But she squared her shoulders and spoke, “Good night, Professor.” With a bow of her head, she spun around to leave.

Senna paused at the door. Snape’s hand tightened around his quill. 

“Professor,” Senna said softly without turning around. 

Snape did not respond. He simply waited.

“Professor, do you…” She started, but paused, “know me?” Her back was still facing him. 

Snape thought carefully about his next words. He contemplated just repeating his order to go to bed, but that would seem suspicious. “No,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t know who you are. Yes, I’ve noticed the similarity of our names, but I assure you, it is just a coincidence.” 

If he wasn’t watching her so intently, he wouldn’t have noticed how her shoulders slumped forward very slightly. 

“Right.” She said in an uncharacteristically cold voice. “I suppose, if I was someone you knew… if I was worth something to anyone, they would have gone looking for me.”

She closed the door behind her. Snape was left with a tight feeling in his heart, and another broken quill in his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Snape’s POV:

“It’s her, Albus.” Snape arrived at Dumbledore’s office out of breath. He had not waited for Dumbledore to look up from his parchment before blurting this out. 

Snape waited, wondering if he had heard him at all. 

Dumbledore did not stir. He was completely unperturbed by this news and continued to write his letter. “I assume you mean your niece?” The nonchalance of his voice made it seem like they were talking about the weather rather than the child of Lord Voldemort. “I am aware.”

Snape blinked. He already knew? He wasn’t surprised. There was little that went on within the walls of Hogwarts that the Headmaster didn’t know about. Snape waited for him to say more, but he simply continued to write.

“What should we do?” Snape finally asked. 

Dumbledore put his quill down and peered at Snape over his half-moon spectacles. “Is there something that should be done?” He returned the question as if Snape were a silly boy. This grated on Snape’s nerves.

“She’s the daughter of Elena and him.”

“Indeed.”

“The Dark Prince’s sister.”

“Yes.”

“And she’s here at Hogwarts.” Snape was getting frustrated now. Somehow, he couldn’t seem to convey the importance of the situation to Dumbledore. Surely, he understood what this meant.

“I see.” He nodded cheerfully. “And?”

“And. And—”

Dumbledore interrupted him, answering his own question. “And she seems to be doing well. Flitwick tells me she is very good at Charms, and gets along well with the Hufflepuff students. Alastor tell me she is very skilled at defense against the dark arts—much like you were during your time here.”

Snape stared back at Dumbledore. He didn’t understand. This had nothing to do with situation. Why was there no concern in his carefree blue eyes?

“What if she finds out the truth? If she learns about her father… would she seek revenge on Potter? May she'll join Struan—”

“There are a lot of if’s. But it's too early to speculate, Severus, she's just a teenager. There is no need to worry, but keep an eye on her if you'd like.”

“She's anything but just a teenager.”

Dumbledore gave a sigh. “That is yet to be seen.”

Snape said nothing. Dumbledore stood and glided casually to the window and stared at the clear dark sky. 

“But I do not recommend revealing this to your sister or nephew just yet.” His voice was low.

“Of course not.” Snape hissed.

The dark night reflected in Dumbledore’s sparkling eyes, swimming like a murky lake. “Children are destined to become whoever it is they decide to be,” He spoke quietly, “Ties of blood do not define who we are, but rather, give us a foundation to work with. Who or what she becomes will be a result of her choices.”

 

Senna’s POV: 

Senna laid on her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. She tried to immerse herself in Outsmarting the Dark Forces, but her mind would not focus. She must’ve re-read the same sentence a dozen times before she realized she just couldn't do it. So she sat here, wallowing in her feeling of loneliness. 

I assure you, it is just a coincidence. He had said.

It surprised Senna that those words could make her feel more alone than ever. She told herself she wouldn't get her hopes up, that the chances were slim anyways. But she had hoped, hoped very much, despite her better judgement. The desire to find someone—anyone that might have cared for her, burned through her like a flame. And now that flame was gone, and in its wake was the feeling of emptiness. 

It was stupid of her to think there was someone in the world that missed her, that would be happy to discover their long-lost child. It was stupid because, if that were true, she wouldn't have been at an orphanage for sixteen years, fighting guards to steal food.

But there was no one. There was no one out there looking for her. No one that loved her.

And that realization sent agony through her heart. The oxygen no longer satisfied the need in her lungs. Senna gasped for air, clutching at her searing chest.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to draw her wand and burn down the room with all the girls in it. The same girls who wouldn't even look at her. And when they did, they looked at her with terror and disgust, as if she were an infectious disease. They whispered behind her back, and through her legilimency, she could hear what they thought of her. A freak. A mentally unstable lunatic, too dangerous to get near. A street-rat from the grimy alleyways of Pawtucket, someone you could catch diseases from. And whenever someone would be kind to her, they would swoop in like a hawk and inform the person of her abnormalities, and insist they should stay away for their own safety. 

They were the reason Senna could not make a single friend at Brownwell. They were the reason that Senna was completely alone. 

They set the whole school against her. They made everyone fear her.

She could give them something to fear. 

A real reason to be afraid of her. 

It would be so easy. She knew how to hurt people. She knew every hex and curse that could make them all wish for death within five minutes. 

The rage and pain scorched her, until all that remained was an empty puppet. But her body stood, the rage still swimming in the emptiness, pulling the strings. Senna walked out from her corner to where the girls giggled in the lobby, her wand drawn. They did not notice her approach. 

This consuming rage was not new, it had been brewing for sixteen years, growing until Senna could not possibly contain it for any longer. 

She was directly behind one of the blonde girls now. She was talking about some of the cute boys at Durmstrang. The girl across from her saw Senna first, and her facial expression shifted immediately. Her smile faded, her eyes widened with horror, and the blood drained from her face. Perhaps Senna’s demeanor reflected the rage pouring from her soul. Perhaps her icy stare conveyed exactly what she wanted to do to them. 

Wondering about the change in her friend's mood, the blonde girl turned around to see what she was looking at. When she saw me, her expression did the same. Senna was surprised to see such fear there. True, blood-chilling fear. Was Senna’s expression that terrifying?

Good.

Instead of feeling annoyed at their fear as usual, she felt exhilarated. The hollowness in her chest filled with a sweet satisfaction. The sudden pleasure made her want to laugh out loud. But she didn't laugh, she smiled. She saw the smile through their thoughts, it was a beautiful but terrible smile, cold and uncaring. She looked like an angel of death. The girls went very very white.

Senna’s wand itched in her hand, begging to be used. Senna was more than willing to comply. A dozen different curses flew threw her mind, but which to use?

There was a voice in the back of her head, telling her that she should stop. It begged her to see reason, told her that hurting them wouldn't make the pain stop. Once she hurt them, there was no going back. But Senna wasn't sure. She could feel the relief already, it was only a flick of the wrist away…

For a moment, the blonde girl's face resembled something else. Hannah Abbott’s face, but instead of her kind smile, she looked scared and defenseless. 

Senna’s hand automatically lowered. She shook her head. It wasn't Hannah, it was that Brownwell bitch. But it had shaken her enough to force her back to her senses.

Hannah, Susan, Justin, Ernie, Tonks, and even Lee had been kind to her. They spoke to her even when the Brownwells avoided her like the plague. Perhaps they were her friends. She owed them better than this. The hollowness in her chest ebbed, and she could feel the rage receding. 

She was back in control now. The monster inside her was locked up in the darkest place of her soul. But she couldn't stand to be there in the room full of frozen, terrified girls. So she ran, bolting out of the dorms, and fled into the dark night. 

 

Tonks’s POV: 

Tonks cursed at herself. How could she have nearly lost control of herself? How could she let herself be so flustered by a teenage girl? She was an Auror, she had a job to do, and could not and afford to be distracted. 

Tonks was on patrol tonight, walking the perimeter of the castle, keeping an eye out for suspicious Death Eater activity. Her boots squeaked noisily on the wet grass.

She couldn’t keep that girl off her mind. The way she strode with confidence, the ruthless look in her eyes, and magic she was already capable of, all made her seem much older than her years. Maybe that was why she was attracted to her. And Tonks could tell that it may be mutual. 

When Tonks had made the mistake of pushing her against the wall, she saw her own lust mirrored in her eyes. She swore she had wanted it too. And when Tonks pulled away, she saw a hint of disappointment. 

This made it harder to resist. Even if that beautiful girl somehow wanted her too, she could not pursue it. She was probably underage. And let's face it—she was incredibly hot, but what else did she know about her? She was still a stranger. It would be best for her to stay away.

A quick precession of footsteps echoed in the distance. Tonks froze, immediately entering Auror mode. She closed her eyes and listened. Someone was running to her West, and the sound was fading quickly. So Tonks moved, drawing her wand and chasing after the footsteps. 

The wards around the castle had not yet been disturbed—she would know. Or had Death Eaters found a way in without touching the wards?

She turned a corner and entered the castle. The footsteps were on stone floor now, easier for her to track. She turned left, and then right, and caught a glimpse of the intruder. A flash of black night gown disappeared around another corridor. Tonks stood confused for only a moment before continuing her chase. A girl? Long black hair? This better not be Senna. Again. She warned her about wandering the castle at night. She would have to report her this time.

She made that final turn and then stopped. It was quiet. Too quiet. No more footsteps to track. She slowly turned around, and saw her. Senna had her back pressed against the wall, breathing much too calmly to have just ran about half a mile. She wore a black night dress that reached her upper thigh. Tonks looked up before her mind could wander too far.

“What are—” Tonks started to drill her but stopped. Something in Senna’s expression made her choke. 

Senna’s dark eyes were tormented and half-crazed.

“What's wrong?” Tonks asked her, taking a step towards her.

Senna’s tormented eyes did a once over on Tonks’s body before meeting her gaze. Senna took a deep shuddering breath. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “I know I'm not supposed to be out…” She paused, biting her trembling lip and looking away.

Tonks’s heart squeezed painfully. It was such a heartbreaking expression. 

Before she knew what she was doing, Tonks stepped forward again, and embraced her. Senna stiffened in her arms, unsure what to do. But after a moment, she relaxed into Tonks’s arms. Tonks couldn't help but relish the feel of Senna in her arms, even when it was very inappropriate. She was warm, well-toned, and smelled like sweet lavender.

“What's wrong?” Tonks repeated softly.

Senna shook her head against Tonks’s neck. Tonks did her best to ignore the sensations it caused. She was very concerned now.

“Did someone hurt you?”

She shook her head again.

She sighed and held her for a moment longer. She began to pull away, but Senna held on, wrapping her arms around her waist. Tonks almost groaned in pleasure. All the more reason to pull away. Tonks didn't have the best self-control when it came to Senna.

“Senna,” she spoke with the most authoritative voice she could muster, “You really need to get back to your dorm.”

Senna responded by squeezing her tighter, and her arms begun to tremble. This made Tonks’s heart squeeze harder. In addition, she could feel Senna’s breasts through the thin material of her night gown.

She was an Auror. One of the Aurors stationed here to protect the school from Death Eaters, not a therapist. She needed to be professional. It wasn't her job to console an emotionally distraught teenager. She had to be firm, tell her to return or she would report her. 

But she just couldn't bring herself to send her away. The trembling girl in her arms cemented her to where she stood. 

“Senna,” Tonks was pleading now. She was losing her own internal battle.

Senna stepped away with tears in her eyes and looked apologetic. “Sorry if I am creeping you out. I'm not usually weepy.” She dabbed at her eyes.

Tonks was still concerned, wondering what in the world could make this fierce girl cry. But it didn’t look like Senna wanted to talk about it. 

“Pft,” Tonks laughed, “You’re not creepy at all.”

This seemed to genuinely surprise her. Senna looked at Tonks, her eyes wide with disbelief. Had she said something wrong?

“You don’t think I’m scary?”

Tonks stared at her. Was she joking? After a moment of looking into her sincere eyes, Tonks began to laugh. Senna? Scary? Sure she was intimidating, but she certainly was not scary. 

“I know you’re out there.” A gruff male voice came from another corridor. It was Filch, the caretaker. “Show yourself!” 

“Quick!” Tonks grabbed Senna’s arm and took off down the hall. Why she was helping her escape, she wasn’t sure. The right thing to do would’ve been to turn her into Filtch. But Tonks had never been the one for rules, especially during her time at Hogwarts. She had hoped that Auror training had changed her, turned her into an obedient member of the ministry, one worthy of praise. But here she was, running through the corridors with a foreign-exchange student after dark. 

They turned one last corner, and entered an empty classroom, closing the door shut behind her.

“There,” Tonks huffed, “I thing we lost him.”

Senna giggled.

Tonks turned around to see her smirking at her. She was relieved to see her in a better mood. 

“You’re good at this. Had much practice?”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “You bet I had.” 

Now that she was no longer crying, she could really appreciate her appearance. The lacey top of her night gown revealed a teasing amount of cleavage—which led to a swell of nicely shaped breasts. Senna’s nipples were hard under the thin material, and it made Tonks’s mouth water. If only she could have a taste…

Tonks shook her head to clear it. “What happened back there?”

Senna’s expression fell. “Just a breakdown. That’s all.”

Tonks walked up to her, looking directly into her dark eyes. “Why?” 

Senna sighed and deliberated. After a painfully long moment of staring, Senna spoke. “You know my name, right?”

“Senna.”

“And the rest of it?”

Tonks raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t see how this had anything to do with her breakdown. 

“It’s Senna Severus Snape.”

Tonks gaped at her. Senna Severus Snape? And then she frowned. She had Snape for potions during her time at Hogwarts—and it was the worst period of the day. He was absolutely atrocious. She could see why Senna would not want to be related to him. “Are you—?”

“Related to Professor Snape? I had hoped so.”

Tonks grimaced, “You want to be related to him?”

Senna exhaled in frustration, “I don’t know, I just kind of want to be related to anyone really.”

Tonks stared at her, uncomprehending. The torment was back in her eyes.

“I spent my entire life in an orphanage.” Senna blurted out. There was a pause. “And I thought, I thought—just maybe I had found someone,” Senna’s voice shook, “But I was wrong. I don’t have any one.”

And then she understood. That’s why she was so early for his detention. She was eager to meet the man that might be her father. And it wasn’t Snape. That understanding tore at her heart like claws. This poor girl…

Tonks embraced her again, wrapping her arms around her. Senna did not resist this time. She melted against Tonks’s body, nuzzling her face into her neck. And to her surprise—Senna moaned. Tonks tried not to let that sound stir her arousal. But feeling Senna’s hard nipples pressed against her made it very difficult. She was trying to be comforting, not sexual.

So they stood, Tonks embracing the girl tightly, savoring the warmth and feel of their bodies pressed against each other. 

Senna took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “Mmmm.” Senna murmured. Senna moved her hand, and placed them on Tonks’s hips. She gripped them tightly and pulled her closer. 

A hot bolt of arousal shot through her. Tonks ignored it best she could.

Then, Senna’s thumb grazed the skin of her hip under her shirt. Tonks shuddered.

“Fuck.” Tonks cursed. 

Senna looked up at her, her eyes wide with innocence. 

Tonks growled at her, suspicious that she was faking that innocence. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“Not if we don’t get caught.” Senna said in a husky voice, all innocent pretenses forgotten.

“Get caught doing what, exactly?” Tonks challenged, raising an eyebrow at her. 

But Senna did not say anything. She seemed at loss for words. 

“Well,” Tonks huffed, “If you’re feeling better, you should head back to your dorm.” She suggested. 

Senna made no effort to move or let go of Tonks. She simply stared at her, looking deep into her eyes.

Tonks stared back at her, willing herself not to falter. She would not succumb.

“Do you feel it?” Senna asked in a whisper.

Tonks gulped. “Feel what?”

Senna broke their staring contest to look down the length of Tonks’s body with hungry eyes. Tonks shivered, feeling hot under her stare.

“This—this—” Senna seemed unable to put it into words.

Attraction? Tonks thought to herself. She sighed. Senna was quite innocent after all. The fact that she didn’t understand what she felt made her realize this. It would be a bad idea to tell Senna that what she was feeling was probably attraction. It might make her pursue Tonks, and Tonks could not afford that distraction. 

Senna continued to contemplate this, staring at Tonks’s body. She should send her to bed now. She didn’t know how much longer her self-control would last with Senna staring at her like this. Her center was already throbbing unbearably. But Senna spoke before she opened her mouth.

“What does this feel like to you?” Senna asked in a whisper.

She was about to ask what she meant, but was silenced with a kiss. Senna’s lips pressed softly against hers.

And the touch of her lips sent a current of electricity down her spine. My god, her lips were soft and very sweet…

And then it was over, much too quickly. 

Senna had propped herself away from Tonks, looking up at her with determined eyes. Her cheeks were red, but she did not look embarrassed, she looked steady and resolute. It was strange. Senna had seemed shy when they first met. Where did this confidence come from? But she was able to answer her own question when she saw her own eyes reflected in Senna’s. Tonks’s eyes were filled with hopeless desire. 

Senna was confident because she now knew, for sure, that Tonks wanted her. And that gave her power over her. Tonks’s heart sank in shame when she learned that she no longer had the upper hand. 

***

How will the night end? Stay tuned for Chapter 8.


	8. Chapter 8

Note: As in the books, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are co-ed schools. 

Chapter 8:

Senna’s POV

“Go to bed.” Tonks said with her most authoritative voice.

“Fine.” Senna huffed. Tonks relaxed at the sound of defeat in her voice. She wasn't expecting her next attack, though. Senna quickly leaned in for another kiss, successfully capturing her lips. She earned a whimper of surprise from Tonks. Her lips felt marvelous, warm and gentle against hers. And although it lasted a tad bit longer than the first kiss, it was cut far too short. Tonks pushed her away, her hands strong and hot against the bare skin of her shoulders. Senna shivered at the contact. She hasn't realized how cold she was until Tonks was no longer pressed against her.

Tonks looked down at her, her cheekbones touched with color, her sepia eyes dark with lust and accusation. Senna knew that when Tonks opened her mouth, that she would be in trouble. So she flashed her an apologetic smile and darted out of the classroom before Tonks could gather her thoughts.

“Senna!” Tonks hissed, but Senna was already out in the corridor, and the classroom door was closing behind her.

She stopped and closed her eyes, listening to any sign of Peeves or Fitch. She opened her mind as well, hoping to catch the thoughts of anyone before they could catch her. It wouldn't be much use against an Auror, since most of them knew occlumency. When the coast was clear, she cast a disillusionment charm over herself, and made her way back.

That next morning, when Senna woke, she was surprised at the lighthearted feeling that spread from her chest, to the tips of her fingers and toes. Usually, the gaping hole in her chest from years of estrangement and loneliness would claw at her first thing every morning, sucking the happiness from her like a hungry dementor. But there was no such feeling. She felt warm. Warm in the places where Tonks had held her the night before. When she reminisced, she could almost feel her embrace, her strong arms squeezing her tight, the warm skin of her neck, and the sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had been that close to her physically. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever been hugged before. The caretakers at the orphanage had never been affectionate. And she had never been close enough to anyone at Brownwell for even a friendly hug. 

It was nice. Her hug. Her touch. Her lips…

Oh my god her lips. Just remembering her lips sent a jolt of arousal through her. 

Senna had more free time. While Hannah and her friends had class, she had a free period. Too much free time. It left her mind free to relive Tonks’s kiss—which was bad if she wanted to be productive. 

She found herself in the library, reading a recently returned copy of Hogwarts, A History. The Triwizard Tournament, a magical contest between three schools of wizardry, last took place in 1792. The Goblet of Fire, a very old and powerful magical object, would be responsible for choosing the best champion per school. It had been discontinued due to the high number of deaths of it’s participants. 

Things were different now. There would be four schools participating in the tournament, and all participants must be of age. How would they enforce this of-age rule? Senna wouldn’t find out until a week before Halloween, when the Goblet of Fire started taking names. 

After free period, she had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. This, she particularly enjoyed. Hannah and Ernie teamed up with her, and together they got Hiwiggle extract from Hiwiggle leaves. Justin had to go to the hospital wing when his herbology partner, Susan, accidently squirted him in the face, causing him to turn an interesting shade of magenta. She and Hannah laughed, and made a mental note to keep some of the stuff to drop on Zubeida’s head, because she kept flicking Tiger-nut shells in their direction. 

The awful feelings of turmoil the night before was forgotten. She was preoccupied by the events that took place afterwards. The very lovely kiss that she had stolen from Tonks. And how her body felt pressed against her, it made her hot just thinking about it. She replayed it over and over in her mind. Especially that second kiss, where Tonks had kissed her back. It lasted only a moment, but she felt it, the strong movement of her lips—insistent but gentle. 

The day passed with flying colors. Lee Jordan didn’t approach her all day. Perhaps he had gotten the hint that she was no longer interested after he had gotten her in trouble. She barely even registered the Brownwell bunch that looked at her as if she were a pustulating boil. 

Dinner was full tournament-talk. Hannah and Susan were gushing over Cedric Digory, a very handsome seventh-year who planned on entering his name. 

“What do you think?” Hannah whispered to her, her eyes locked on Digory. She followed her gaze to the boy, who was laughing among his friends. He was indeed very handsome—or maybe cute was the best word. He had a boyish face, a tall and lean—but muscular build that helped fill out the extra years. 

“Attractive,” she agreed, “But not my type.”

Hannah frowned. She thought Digory was flawless, and should therefore be everyone’s type. “What is your type?” Hannah asked her, “Dark and gloomy?”

Senna laughed, “I’m not sure what my type is. It’s just not any of these boys.” She looked between Digory and Jordan with a disapproving expression. 

“You should hear what the boys think of you, you could have any one of them.” Hannah told her.

Oh I do hear, Senna thought with a shiver of disgust. And that was not necessarily true. The Brownwell boys would rather walk on hot coals than date her. Seeing herself through the thoughts of others made her aware of her own physical attractiveness. The boys of Hogwarts, and even Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, were often awe inspired by her above average good looks. She had pale skin, a slim and perfectly sculpted jawline, full lips, and high cheekbones. Senna took care of her hair, making sure the wavy black locks hung perfectly groomed and silky smooth before the left the dorms. While the Brownwells gawked in fear of her, the others who were less informed of her reputation, gawked for other reasons. She was tall for her age, strode with confidence, and it helped to have full breasts and a skinny waist. She wasn’t too skinny—she exercised and kept herself well-toned. She wasn’t one of those witches who relied solely on magic and let their bodies become frail. 

She would give anything to hear what Tonks thought of her. She was certain to a degree, that Tonks wanted her. She saw it her eyes. She felt it in her warm touch. She felt Tonks’s yearning pouring from her. Or at least, she thought she did. She could be wrong. 

“I don’t want any of them.” She insisted.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. Is she even human? Hannah thought. 

Senna sighed and began to shovel more dinner into her mouth. 

As if this topic conjured some sort of bad luck, a stocky Gryffindor boy with disheveled red hair approached the Hufflepuff table. She recognized him as one of the twin boys from Defense Against the Dark Arts. He threw Senna a wide grin. One whiff of his thoughts told her everything she needed to know about his visit. Upon spotting him, Hannah winked and turned to talk to Susan.

“I heard things didn’t work out with Lee.” He scratched the back of his head nonchalantly.

“Nope.” Senna glared at him, waiting for him to cut to the chase. She was no longer in the mood to make friends with boys. Not when she had Hannah, who was guaranteed to not try and get into her pants. “Who are you?”

“Fred,” He smiled, “And I want to assure you, I am much better behaved than Lee over there,” he jabbed a thumb towards the Gryffindor table, where Lee Jordan was sulking, “So if you would like to meet up together for Hogsmeade, I would be glad to give you a tour.” He finished with a wink. 

“No, I’m going with Hannah.” She lied quickly. Although it may end up being true, if Hannah and her lot were planning on going to Hogsmeade that day.

“Right.” He sighed. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned around and returned to the Gryffindor table. 

“Hmmm, so troublemakers aren’t your type either?” Hannah snorted.

After dinner, Senna waited for the dinner tables to clear as usual. She waved goodnight to Hannah and her friends. When the tables were nearly empty, and the staff started to rise, she made her exit. She followed the voices of the Brownwell students, hoping to catch a flash of maroon in the dark corridors. Unfortunately, she made it all the way to the dormitory without seeing that clumsy, but incredibly sexy Auror. 

Senna laid in bed, thinking about the previous night. She thought about Tonks’s hands, and her lips, and how good it felt. It was strange, how intense her lips felt, like an electric current passing between them. Was it supposed to feel like that? If so, she would never again make fun of the girls who daydreamed about snogging boys. She wanted it again—needed it. She even contemplated sneaking out again to see her on patrol, but she knew that would do more harm than good. 

All these thoughts were having adverse effects on Senna. Thinking of the kiss, the feel of her, the lust in her eyes, left an undeniable heat between her legs—and it was becoming more intolerable by the minute. It was all she could do to stop her own hand from slipping underneath her waistband to soothe the fire. She couldn’t do this. She felt oddly exposed, even with the curtains around her bed drawn to a close. By the murmurs and giggles of the other Brownwell girls in the distance, she knew she wasn’t alone in wakefulness. And if she touched herself now, when her flesh ached desperately for a pairs of hands that were not her own, she might just scream. And the last thing she needed was for the Headmaster to come running into the dorms. 

That next morning, she had Defense Against the Dark Arts. She sat dutifully next to Viola Richmond, who ignored her. During their last class, she had seemed frustrated with her inability to cast a perfect nonverbal shield charm. And even more frustrated that Senna outperformed her. She wasn’t used to being outperformed. She was a prefect, and used to being the best. 

“Good morning,” Senna tried, “how’s the shield charm coming along?” 

Viola ignored her. Senna caught a good portion of her thoughts, even with her back facing her. She had noticed Senna’s great performance in potions, and Snape’s almost-compliment, and it infuriated her. Before Senna, she was the top in Snape’s potions class. 

That would explain the bitterness emanating from her. Her shoulders were hunched and her hands gripped the textbook a little too tightly. Wasn’t she too bitter? Senna had been nothing but nice to her. It wasn’t her fault that she was good at this. It wasn’t like she had poked her in the eye with her wand or something. 

“You know the drill!” Professor Moody’s voice echoed. He stalked the classroom, hobbling on his wooden leg. “Partner up. Nonverbal shields and jinxes. Quit lagging!”

Senna knew Viola would be too bitter to consider her as a partner, but decided to try anyways. “Want to partner up again?” 

“No.” Viola stood, her auburn hair splaying around her shoulders. “I’m partnering with someone else today.” Without looking at Senna, she turned and stomped away.

Senna sighed. She looked around the room, scanning for potential partners. In the time it had taken her to ask Viola, everyone else had seemed to find someone. She walked down the aisle of students, hoping to find someone without a partner. But no luck, everyone was taken.

“Aha!” Senna jumped at the sound of Professor Moody’s voice. He limped up behind her. “No partner today?” He sneered in a gruff voice. “Well then you’ll be with me.” Senna’s stomach felt uneasy. She had nothing against this ex-Auror, but it was hard to look him in the eyes, especially with one magical eye that kept rolling back into his head to see behind him. She gulped nervously, but stepped forward. 

She wasn’t even given a chance to prepare herself. Without warning, Moody drew his wand so quickly Senna didn’t have time to draw her own. A silent spell hurtled towards her, and she had no choice but to dive towards a set of desks. Senna had plenty of practice dodging—she had the orphanage to thank for that. All those times she had stolen food, and barely managed to escape the guards. The next spell shattered the window behind her as she rolled behind a desk. Several shrieks of surprise echoed through the classroom 

“Not bad. Remember, constant vigilance! An enemy will never wait for you to be ready, so never let your guard down!” Moody moved forward, stepping noisy towards where she hid. 

Another spell sent the desk flying away, leaving her exposed. Several more shrieks came. This was probably not his normal routine. But Moody was unpredictable. Her wand was drawn, and she was ready for him. Protego! She screamed in her head, and the jinx collided with her shield in a dazzling display of lights. It was too close, a millisecond later and she would have taken the jinx in the face. 

He did not stop throwing jinxes. She tried to regain her stance, but the concentration required for nonverbal spells and the difficulty of the shield charm wore away at her stamina. She could feel the limits of her magic waning. The fourth or fifth jinx he threw had nearly broken through. Mad eye Moody was not afraid to hurt her. She had to do something quick, or she would really take a nasty jinx or hex. 

She tried to fit in an attack between shield charms, but the interval between his spells were too short. She could not shield and attack at the same time, so she sent a disarming spell at him while diving out of the way of his jinx. It missed. Damn.

The whole class was watching them now. They were all backed up against the walls, afraid to get caught in the misfire. 

“C’mon. I’m getting bored here. If I were a Death Eater, you would already be dead.” He threw a particular nasty hex in my direction. I barely managed to dodge, and it left a basketball sized crater in the stone floor. 

I gritted my teeth in anger and exertion. This was getting dangerous. Desks, books, and papers flew in every direction. All it took was a stray desk to give someone a concussion. But Moody did not bat an eye, his wand arm swung relentlessly, throwing hex after hex at Senna. Sweat dripped down her face and neck. She was losing. Her wand arm was tired. Her legs burned from diving and scampering out of the way. 

That’s when she noticed the jar of spiders behind him, sitting on his desk. Reducto! Senna thought, aiming at the spell at the jar. Thinking she missed, he let the spell whiz past him. 

Bam! The glass jar exploded into a thousand pieces, sending spiders and glass in every direction. He whipped his head back at the sound of the students screaming in terror. 

Now was her chance! She lunged forward. Expelliarmus! She yelled in her head. Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Too bad he could see behind his head. With a flick of his wand, he guarded himself with a shield. 

And then a miracle happened. He took a step to the side, his wooden leg slipping on the broken glass as if it were marbles. He stumbled and attempted to regain his balance. 

Expelliarmus! She tried once more. Distracted in the attempt to keep himself upright, the spell hit and his wand flew out of his hand, landing with a very satisfying clatter onto the floor. 

There was an eerie moment of silence that followed. She stared into Moody’s disfigured face, sweat dripping down her chin. He made no move to pick up his wand. Her burning legs threatened to give out, but she would not let herself fall now. 

The students against the wall were silent, looking between her and Professor Moody. The only sound in the room was the occasional groan of a desk still crumbling. 

Then, he began to laugh. It was an awful sound, like a horse choking on something foul. 

She blinked at him with both surprise and terror. The way his face contorted as he smiled, with the chunks of missing flesh and deranged scars, it made him even more terrifying. In fact, his laughing face was many times more frightening than his scowl. The others must have thought this as well, because nobody laughed with him.

“Well done!” He laughed, “Now that is what constant vigilance looks like.” He lumbered over to his wand and pointed it in the air. The desks repaired themselves and zoomed into their original places. The disarray of broken glass and parchment flew to their original states, torn pages returning to their textbooks, and in a matter of seconds, it was like the brutal duel had never happened. The classroom was back to normal. 

That morning’s duel had made her the celebrity of the day. By lunch time, there was not a soul the news hadn’t reached. Students from every house stopped to ask her details, to confirm the latest gossip, and Hannah had to shoo them away. 

“Is it true that you took out his other eye?” One Hufflepuff asked. “That’s what Mclaggan said.”

No, she was about to answer, but the next curious student had already pushed their way forward. 

“Is it true that not a single hex touched you?”

Yes, that was true, she thought to herself proudly. But just like last time she did not have time to answer before the next question had blurted out.

“They said—” 

“Enough!” Hannah scowled at the second-year who spoke. She was angry about the crowd that had gathered around them, and simply wanted a quiet lunch. “Senna is not answering any questions. So think whatever you’d like! It doesn’t matter.” She spat before turning my shoulder to face the lunch table. 

Yes, a quiet lunch is what she wanted after that exhausting morning. She could not stop feeling gratitude for this girl. It filled her with warmth to think there was someone in this world, even if only temporary, that she could count on to stand up for her. It made her realize how deprived she’d been. All the knowledge and magical power in the world could not give her what Hannah’s friendship did. And for that, she was grateful.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Senna’s POV

The week passed in much the same manner. The Hogwarts curriculum was easy for her, and she yearned for something challenging, something that would push her to the limits of her capabilities. Since she couldn't exactly duel Moody again, she knew the only thing that would quench her ambition now was the Triwizard Tournament. 

She hadn't seen Tonks since the night of the kiss, and started to believe she was avoiding her. And as more time passed, the memories that gave Senna joy, started to plague he with worry. If Tonks was avoiding her, perhaps she no longer wanted anything to do with her. Or was it the Death Eater activity that had her busy? What if she was hurt? Or dead? Or maybe she was no longer stationed at Hogwarts?

By Friday afternoon, Senna was thoroughly worried. She knew she was being clingy, but couldn't help it. She had shared with Tonks a piece of herself that she hadn't shared with anyone. Her tears, her personal demons, and kiss so blissful, it warmed her very soul.

So after lunch on Friday, she went up the north tower to the owlry. They weren't exactly friends or on owl-terms yet, but she didn't think Tonks would flat out ignore her. She spent some hours staring at the blank parchment, unable to decode what to write. What would be appropriate? But that was a silly question, nothing they did had been appropriate since the moment they met. A mountain of discarded drafts later, each ranging from a paragraph to an entire scroll, she decided on a three simple words:

Tonks,

How are you?

—S.S.S

Once at the owlry, she tied her message to a school provided owl, and sent it away. 

Saturday morning was buzzing with excitement. Of course, upperclassmen were eager to leave school and venture into Hogsmeade. She half expected the staff to cancel it, there were Death Eaters spotted early that same week after all. But their sweep of the town must have come back clean, because they announced the new security procedures regarding the Hogsmeade visit that morning. 

Senna’s heart jumped when an envelope dropped next to her breakfast. She whipped her head up to see an owl flying back out the windows of the Great Hall. 

She tried not to open it too eagerly, as to not rouse Hannah's suspicion.

Senna,

Sweet of you to ask. I am doing great. I have been stationed at Hogsmeade over the last few days. They're tightening security around here. 

P.S. It’s Saturday, isn't it? Perhaps I'll even see you there.

XOXO,  
Tonks

Senna’s stomach did a flip. Perhaps I'll even see you there… There must have been something in Senna’s expression that caught Hannah's attention, because she leaned over Senna’s shoulder to read it too. Senna was too engrossed in the letter to notice right away. She stuffed it quickly in her blazer pocket, but it was too late, Hannah had already caught a glimpse.

Hannah smiled smugly. “You’re meeting someone at Hogsmeade?” She teased. “Who is it? Spill it.”

Senna could feel the heat in her cheeks. “Not really. They just said I might see them.”

Hannah raised her blonde eyebrows, completely unconvinced. “Then why are you blushing?” She leaned in closer to Senna, her eyes demanding the truth. 

“No reason.” 

“I know you're lying. You were practically drooling on the letter. You're going on a date aren't you?” She demanded.

“No, I'm not.” Senna whined.

“I thought you said you didn't want any of the boys.”

“I don't.”

She rolled her eyes and dismissed Senna’s answer with a wave of her hand. “Fine.” She huffed. “But I'll find out who he is eventually.”

Before they released the students into Hogsmeade, Transfiguration teacher, Minerva McGonagall lectured the lot of students by the front gate. “As you may already know, these are not peaceful times in Great Britain.” Students glanced at each other with worried expressions. “That is why I stress the importance of staying with your designated chaperone, who will be either a teacher or an Auror. All items brought back into the castle will be checked by Mr. Filch,” McGonagall’s eyes flashed towards the Weasley twins, “And any suspicious items will be confiscated. Do not wander away from your chaperone, and stay within the town’s boundaries. If you see anything suspicious, notify your chaperone immediately.”

Several teachers and Aurors, including McGonagall, who announced themselves as chaperones, herded the students into groups to be led into the town. Senna was disappointed to see that Tonks was not among the chaperones. She chose to follow Hannah and Justin, who were in Professor Sprout’s group. Ernie and Susan had to stay behind to finish homework. 

While walking down the stony path that lead to Hogsmeade, Hannah approached her. “Where’s your date?” She whispered.

Senna rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a date.” 

Hannah gave her a look that told her she was not at all convinced, but decided not to press the issue. 

Just then, a group of Slytherins approached them, several feet away from their chaperone, the Auror Proudfoot. They pointed in our direction and laughed. One of them was Zubeida, a nasty girl who was now imitating Justin when he had gotten a face full of Hiwiggle extract which had turned him magenta a few days ago. 

Justin seemed to shrink into his coat, turning a shade of pink. This made the Slytherins laugh even more.

Senna instinctively reached for her wand.

“No.” Hannah hushed her, placing a hand over Senna’s as it dug for her wand. “Don’t bother it’s not worth it.”

“I think so.” Senna said. Zubeida was now running around, pretending to scream, while the other Slytherins laughed. It was a very dramatic impersonation, Justin hadn’t done all that when he was squirted in the face. 

Hannah took Justin by the arm, and hurried him forward. 

When footsteps approached Senna from behind, she whipped out her wand, prepared to hex anyone who dared to make fun of Justin. Blaise Zabini threw up his hands in surrender, a startled look on his face. “Woah,” he stammered, “Look, sorry about those guys,” he jerked his head in the direction of the other Slytherins, “they’re just trying to have some fun, that’s all.” He assured.

But Senna was not assured, and refused to lower her wand. First of all, the person he should be apologizing to is Justin, not Senna. He completely ignored the Hufflepuffs. One look into his eyes told her that he was not sorry at all. He just wanted to seem like the good guy because he was trying to make an impression on Senna. It wasn’t working. Hannah and Justin must have thought the same thing, because they stalked forward without meeting his eyes. 

“What do you want?” Senna asked impatiently. 

“I wanted to invite you to hang with us.” He gave her a charming grin. He had a good smile, one that would have swooned most girls—if they didn’t hate his guts. Reading her hostile expression, he decided to backtrack, “They can be a little immature sometimes, but they’re not that bad once you get to know them.”

Senna remembered the pledge she made with herself a week ago—that she would make friends. But then again, did she want friends like this? Senna didn’t not answer right away, but Blaise kept looking at her hopefully. She glanced back at Hannah and Justin’s retreating figures and decided. No, not if it would ruin what friendships she had already managed to find. 

Senna bowed politely. “Not today, but thank you.” And then she bolted up the path to catch up with Hannah. 

Hogsmeade was quiet and barren. Shop doors were closed, windows boarded, and the few people that went through the stone streets, did so in a hurry, as to not spend time out in the open longer than necessary. Senna was disappointed. Somehow, she expected it to be livelier. 

Reading Senna’s expressions, Hannah explained, “It’s usually packed at this time. But after the Death Eaters marched through the town, everybody is too scared to come out.”

“Marched?” Senna asked. “What do you mean? They didn’t attack?”

Hanna’s eyes became wary, and she looked around herself as if a Death Eater would be listening. “No, not attack. They wouldn’t attack a town so close to the school—where Albus Dumbledore is.” The sounds of the excited students faded in the distance as they separated from the main path, disappearing into the city. Now, the only sound she could hear was Hannah’s voice and their footsteps. “It’s just that—they marched into the city when the Aurors weren’t around, to make themselves known. I think it’s to remind everyone that he’s out there with an army of Dark wizards, ready to strike at any time. Nobody was hurt, this time.” Hannah exhaled. 

They walked through the streets in silence. The eerie state of Hogsmeade began to make everyone uneasy. Just when it seemed like the group would rather return to Hogwarts, Honeydukes came into view, windows lit, shelves stocked with sweets, and crowded to the brink of its capacity. Everyone bolted into Honeydukes, despite the fact that Professor Sprout shouted after them. 

Senna squeezed into the already full store, taking in the shelves upon shelves of the most delicious sweets presumable. There were Creamy chunks of nougat, giant swirling lollipops, shimmering squares of coconut ice-cream, giant honey-colored toffees, and hundreds of various kinds of chocolate in barrels around the room. 

For a moment, Senna’s breath caught from the sheer amount of sweets. Until she saw something even more delectable. Standing among the crowd, a woman with a maroon cape and electric blue hair, was trying to get a hoard of excited students to behave. She was unsuccessful. The students pushed passed her to get to the chocolate fountain. Once the hoard was out of the way, Senna could take in the rest of her. Under her cloak, she wore a corset-type top that hugged her curves and squeezed her breasts, tied with blue strings in a crisscross pattern. Then there was a good three inches of firm abdomen, which led to a studded black belt and black leather pants and boots. This made Senna smile. She had such a bizarre fashion sense. She’d never seen anything like it—except maybe in a strange muggle television show. And she had somehow managed to pull it off. It made her sexier instead of freakier. Her sense of style was edgy—and daring. At least, that’s what Senna thought. Some of the adults in the shop looked at her with an expression of distaste. 

Without thinking, Senna ducked behind the crowds. She snuck behind Tonks and smiled. It was much easier to sneak passed her with the chaotic crowds. Without warning, she slid her arms around Tonks’s waist and whispered in her ear, “Hey sexy.” Senna braced herself, preparing for Tonks to startle and punch her in the face—but instead she heard a sharp intake of breath, and felt her shudder.

Tonks whipped around, her cheeks flushed and her hair turning a shade of purple. “What are you doing?” She hissed, whipping her head around to see if anyone saw them. Fortunately, the crowds were too preoccupied to notice them.

Senna wasn’t sure where this boldness had come from. Maybe it was the adorable flush that colored her cheeks. She couldn’t help but be amused by the sudden change in her hair color and the frantic look in her eyes. 

Tonks did not give her enough time to respond. She took Senna’s arm and dragged her out the backdoor. Once the backdoor shut behind them, the contrast between the boisterous noise inside and the dead quiet outside was stifling. They were alone behind the candy shop, surrounded only by crates and boxes. 

Tonks was still flushed in the face, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, I could’ve hexed you.” She warned. 

“It was a chance I was willing to take.” Senna smiled at her, still recalling the shudder of Tonks’s body in her arms. 

Tonks sighed, but look entertained, “What’s gotten into you? I thought you were the modest type.” 

Senna thought for a moment. She was right—this wasn’t Senna’s usual behavior. She was the serious, reserved type. Something about Tonks made her want to be playful—she wasn’t sure what though. 

“Not sure,” Senna shrugged. “How’s Hogsmeade? Having fun?” Senna asked. She wasn’t the small talk type, not one to ask about one’s day or ask how they were doing—but she found herself genuinely curious about Tonks’s life.

Tonks blinked, trying to keep track of the sudden change in the conversation. “It’s umm… relatively boring,” she admitted, “No suspicious activity so far.”

“Not since the march?” 

A hint of surprise flashed in Tonks’s eyes, but then disappeared. “Oh, so word has gone around, hasn’t it?” she sighed, “Nope, not since the Death Eaters Marched through the city. It’s got everyone unnerved.”

“I bet,” Senna added. “And with all the visitors that will be arriving for the tournament, I bet it’s going to be chaos, trying to find out who’s good and who’s… not.” 

“Ahh yes.” Tonks scrunched up her nose as if smelling something bad, “Triwizard Tournament security is going to be a hassle.” Tonks met Senna’s gaze. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how are you liking Hogwarts? I mean, besides the obvious war going on.”

“It’s great. Loads better than Brownwell. I mean, it’s great academic-wise, but everyone hates me there. People here are a lot nicer. I have friends now.” Senna blushed, thinking it was such a cliché thing to say.

“What did you do to deserve that? They avoid you like the plague.” Tonks’s laughed, but there was a concerned tightness in her eyes. 

Senna was taken aback. She had noticed that? The way she couldn’t even walk through the halls without her peers flattening themselves against the wall as if she would spontaneously catch fire? She couldn’t think of a time where Tonks was near her during a display of her peer’s aversion to her. “Rough experiences with socialization in my first few years there. Had a temper and my magic would do random stuff, not to mention that constant legilimency tends to scare people away. People are afraid I’ll divulge their every secret.” She laughed. 

Tonks’s smile faded, and a perplexed look crossed her face. “You’re a legilimens? No way.”

“Not voluntarily.” She admitted sheepishly. “Actually, I wish it would just disappear. There are so many things I wished I’ve never heard.”  
“That’s amazing!” Tonks exclaimed. “Can you hear what I’m thinking now?” She asked a little warily. 

Senna looked deep into her hazel eyes, trying to see deeper. She found herself entranced by the rich, shimmering color. It wasn’t only shimmering—it was changing. They darkened to an earthy sepia. “No.” She looked down, trying to break herself free from her entrancing eyes. But it didn’t help to stare at her corset-like top, the swell of breasts, and the three inches of slightly tanned, smooth skin. It made Senna’s mouth water. She wanted to run her hands against the hot skin. 

Senna still didn’t know how she could manage to look so very sexy in such an outlandish combination. When she looked up, Tonks was watching her take her in, with a similar hungry expression on her face. The sight of her lust made the monster in her chest stir. It begged her to get closer, to run a hand over the exposed skin, to taste it…

Tonks was the first one to recover from the heated exchange.

“Phew.” Tonks wiped the back of her hand across her forehead in relief. “Good thing my occlumency works, or I would’ve been arrested for indecency.” A throaty laugh left her lips. 

Senna, still in a daze, didn't manage to catch her words. She shook her head to clear it.

Tonks looked at her seriously again. “That’s a rare gift though, innate legilimency. The kind of legilimency that can be used without a wand, it’s not something a lot of people can do.”

“It’s never been of much use,” She told her, “I wish I could turn it off.”

“You can.” Tonks’s eyes sparkled. “You’ll have to learn to control it.”

Senna blinked in surprise. “You can?” 

Senna wasn’t used to being caught off guard by a piece of information. She had thoroughly researched legilimency and occlumency. All the information she found taught her how to perform the magic, but not how to turn it off. So she had assumed it was impossible. 

“Yup. Although, I would not be able to tell you much, I’m no expert on the subject. Haven’t you ever spoken to your Headmaster or a teacher about it?” 

Senna felt silly now. No, she had not told anyone about her predicament with untamable legilimency. She was sure the staff at Brownwell knew. Years ago, she had the habit of answering people’s thoughts instead of their words, and the rumors had spread quickly, no doubt it reached the staff as well. They gossiped just as much as the students did. But the reason she had not told anyone in person, was because she was afraid. If she were to tell someone, it would become a real, palpable part of her, and she didn’t want it to be. It is was made her a freak, and she’d much rather pretend it wasn’t real. 

And besides, Senna wasn’t the one to ask for help. Especially for something that personal. If there was a solution to her problem, she would find out on her own. 

“No.” Senna admitted.

Tonks looked into her eyes, her gentle expression a mask of concern. Senna hoped it wasn’t pity—that was the last thing she wanted Tonks to feel. Regardless, being the focus of her silent gaze made her feel hot in strange places. 

“I’m sure there are a few professors at Hogwarts that could be informative.”

“Maybe. I’ll see…” She said, but internally dismissed it. She didn’t have an established relationship with any of the staff here, and was in no place to seek personal guidance. 

Tonks sighed, “It’s hard to escape what people think of you, even after you’ve changed.” She gave Senna a sympathetic smile, “Actually, it’s downright impossible.”

“You have a reputation that haunts you?”

“Definitely.” She nodded, “Back in school, I was a total clutz—”

“You’re a whole new person. Not clutzy at all.” Senna said sarcastically, and laughed. 

Tonks glared at her for interrupting. “And I couldn’t seem to behave myself—”

“Yes, completely changed.” 

Tonks stopped and placed her hands on her hips, glaring. “Do you want me to tell the story, or not?” 

Senna smiled, she couldn’t help it. She was incredibly cute—and sexy—when she did her power pose like that. And it happened to open up her cloak more, revealing more of that sexy top, and skin for Senna to see. 

“Sorry.”

“I was an absolute nuisance in my school days, not good at magic really, not good at anything. People laughed at me when I told them I was going to become an Auror.” A brief look of torment visited her eyes, “And even when I was out of school, defying the odds at Auror training, nobody would take me seriously. Even though I had a rough start, with a lot of effort, I managed to catch up, and yet…” she paused, “reputations stick to you, no matter how hard you try to escape them. If Alastor hadn’t vouched for me, I wouldn’t be an Auror today. They only take the best of the best. And I have never been the best—or even adequate at anything.”

The expression on her face tore at Senna’s chest. It was a feeling she knew all too well. The frustration of never being given a second chance to prove yourself. The flaws of your past hindering your progress no matter how hard you try. 

Senna stepped forward, lifting Tonks’s chin to look into her eyes. “They’re all wrong.” She told Tonks. “You’re amazing.” And she meant it. She was very impressed with what she’d seen from Tonks so far. From being able to see through a perfect disillusionment charm to her quick wand work and accuracy. She was clumsy, no one could deny that, but when it came down to it, she wasn’t lacking in skill.

Tonks’s eyes widened in surprise and suspicion. She didn’t believe her at first. But she couldn’t deny the sincerity in Senna’s eyes. 

They were standing close now, they’re lips just inches apart. Senna watched her lips part slightly. She remembered how her lips felt. Soft, warm, but insistent. She looked up to see that Tonks was looking at her lips too, with hungry, reminiscing eyes. When Tonks looked up, she could see the unmistakable lust in her eyes, and something more, but she couldn’t exactly put her finger on what it was. It made her shiver. 

Senna wanted—needed—to close the distance between them. She placed her hand on her hips and pulled her forward so that their chests were touching. A squeak of surprise left Tonks’s lips, and Senna couldn’t stifle her own moan of pleasure. The heat of their bodies pressed against each other burned like a furnace, pouring arousal into Senna’s center. How long had she been craving her warmth? And it was just as good as she’d remembered. 

Tonks’s head snapped away from Senna. She lifted her hand to Senna’s chest and pushed her away. “I shouldn’t hold you from your group. Your Chaperone may be looking for you.” 

Senna’s stomach sank in disappointment. There was also something else, like a stab to her gut. Was rejection supposed to hurt like that? 

“I don’t think so.” Senna frowned. It was good that Tonks was looking away from her, she didn’t want her to see the hurt on her face. “But you have Auror duties to get back to, right?”

Senna studied her, committing her angular face into her memory. She looked conflicted, as if the idea of returning to work was not a pleasant one either. When Tonks’s looked back at her, her eyes softened, giving her stomach a fluttering sensation. And for a moment, she thought she could she them darken in lust, but it was soon replaced with a decisive mask—cool and collected. 

“Yeah, I should get back to work.” Tonks said. She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving Senna alone among the wooden crates. 

Senna shivered from the sudden rush of cold that enveloped her body, and it had nothing to do with the weather.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

“I’m okay. Really.” Senna exhaled. Hannah had been persistently asking about Senna’s mood, which had turned sour immediately following the Hogsmeade visit. It was Monday afternoon now, and Senna’s brooding demeanor had not yet lifted.

She remembered the cold, distant look in Tonks’s eyes, and it sent another icy blast into her gut. She thought they had a connection. Why else would Tonks embrace her so gently the night of her breakdown? Why would she confide in Senna the struggles of being a clumsy Auror? 

It didn't help her mood that Senna had been caught off guard in DADA that morning. She was preoccupied, analyzing Tonks’s actions, and when Moody called on her to answer a question about inferi, for once, she did not have the answer. Viola, the girl who was bitter about Senna outshining her in both DADA and potions, had smiled smugly from four seats over.

Senna pushed away the remnants of her lunch and stood up. Hannah shot her a concerned look. “I'm going to the library.” Senna told Hannah. 

She needed to stop moping. In just one week, the goblet of fire was going to be lit, allowing students to enter names and officially starting the Triwizard Tournament. She didn't have the luxury to wallow. At least, that was what she told herself. But she couldn't stop the ache in her heart from festering. 

She had some good luck at the library. She managed to find Chasing Magical Tournaments unceremoniously lodged between the shelves of biographies of famous witches and wizards and magical malpractices. Since it had been hidden in the wrong place, it managed to remain available despite the high demand of tournament-related books. Senna was very grateful to the neglectful wizard who had thrown this aside. Excited, she plopped down in a chair and wretched the old book open. 

She heard footsteps approach her from behind, but she paid no attention. She had just reached the part of the book that contained information specific to the Triwizard Tournament. It talked about the traditional three tasks, how no two tournaments are the same, and how each task will contain something inexplicably dangerous to test bravery, cleverness, and skill…

“I hope you're not thinking of entering. You're only a sixth year.” A condescending female voice said. 

Senna turned around to meet the fierce green eyes of Viola Richmond. Her curly red hair spilled around her shoulders like a silky flame. She crinkled her freckled nose in distaste. 

Viola’s thoughts echoed her harsh words. “Don't be one of those idiots who thinks they're above the underage restrictions.”

Senna took a deep, calming breath. It didn't work. Viola’s bitchy tone made the pit of her stomach bubble with anger.

“That's none of your business.” Senna attempted to speak calmly, but a little venom leaked through. “And what makes you think I'm going to enter?”

Viola rolled her eyes. “Oh please.” She sneered. “It's obvious. You're the overachiever type. And you want the glory of winning the tournament.” 

Senna wanted to slap her, but refrained. She was right of course, but she didn't like Viola assuming anything about her, and the sneering tone of her voice was degrading. It made it seem like Senna wanted to do it for attention. Instead, she ignored her, continuing the chapter on the Triwizard Tournament. She read a few sentences, listening for the sound of Viola’s retreating footsteps, but it was silent. She wasn't going anywhere. She felt Viola’s eyes on her back. What the hell did this girl want?

She slammed her book shut and whirled around to Viola, who didn't flinch, but continued to stare at Senna with her piercing green eyes. She opened to mouth to retort, but the stream of Viola’s thoughts halted the insult on the tip of her tongue. Her thoughts were wordless, but still clear as a bell. She was appraising Senna, her face, her body, and her standoffish attitude. She was feeling a mixture of jealousy, admiration, and surprisingly—attraction.

Senna blinked, jarred by the unexpected emotion running through Viola’s mind. She took a second to recompose herself. “What do you want?” Senna hissed.

“From you?” She coughed a laugh, “Nothing.” 

Senna gritted her teeth. “Then why are you standing here?”

The corner of Viola’s lips curled up into a grin. It was arrogant, mocking, but also sexy. It made Senna’s insides churn with both fury and something else she didn't want to acknowledge. Senna had to admit, Viola was very beautiful--strikingly so, with her ruthless green eyes that made her peers cower in intimidation, flawless locks of auburn hair, high cheekbones, and full pink lips. She was busty for her age, had perfect curves and long limbs. She carried herself with a confidence that would make any girl’s ego shatter just by being in her presence. 

The complete opposite of Tonks. 

“I'm just getting to know the competition.” Viola smirk widened, revealing a row of perfect, white teeth, “In case you are stupid enough to enter.”

Senna bit her tongue to stop the insults from spewing out. From her peripheral vision, she could see students turning their heads towards them to see what was going on. She didn't want to attract the attention of the librarian too. 

Quietly, she spoke, her voice surprisingly steady and in control, “And you're a sixth year too. A bit hypocritical, isn't it?”

“Yes. But I'm seventeen.”

“And how do you know I'm not?” Senna gave her a skeptical look. 

“I have my sources.” She said. A brief flash of memories entered Viola’s mind, and Senna saw them. Viola had asked her peers about her, and received more information than Senna was comfortable with. 

This angered Senna even more. Why was she digging for information about her, when the tournament hadn't even started? 

“Well whatever you heard, it's probably true.” Senna warned. This was not really the case, rumors tended to become warped and exaggerated as it spread, but she knew the rumors. She had been hearing them in the minds of her peers for years. And they were all disturbing rumors, rumors that said she was the spawn of evil, that she could read your thoughts if you were in the same room, steal your soul with one look, that she had dangerous, untamed magic, and that she was to be avoided at all costs. 

Senna was rewarded when a flicker of fear that flashed through Viola’s eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came, but it was there. Good, Senna thought, she had heard about ‘those’ rumors. 

She was disappointed when the librarian, a skinny old witch, marched towards them with an angry expression. She had just gained the upper hand in this intimidation battle. 

Viola hurried away before the librarian reached them so that Senna was forced to face the scolding alone. 

Viola Richmond was a very attractive girl, confident and talented... But damn, she was a bitch. 

She was still fuming by the time she arrived in potions class. The Brownell crowd that hovered by the door took one look at her and scampered away, giving her a lot more room than necessary to enter the classroom. When she spotted Viola, hunched over a book in the distance, a fresh wave of irritation hit her. 

And then she had an idea. Something that would irritate Viola to no end. She could already visualize the fury in Viola’s face. Senna smiled and walked directly towards Viola, plopping down noisily in the chair next to her. 

Sensing her, Viola stiffened, her hands tightening around the potions book. Then, very warily, she turned her head to see her neighbor. Viola’s cheeks reddened in rage the moment she laid eyes on Senna, who was leaning back casually, a smug smile on her face. Seeing the obvious anger made Senna’s smile widen. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Viola growled. “You can't sit here.”

Senna’s eyes widened in feigned innocence, “I'm sorry, but I don't believe seating is assigned. I can sit anywhere I want.” Senna said sweetly. 

Her cheeks turned a darker shade of red. Her eyes were daggers now, and Senna heard every nasty and insulting thought that crossed her mind. She looked like she was about to voice them, but Professor Snape burst through the doors then, commanding the class to order. 

Revenge was going to be sweet. Senna cheerfully thought of all the possibilities. When the time came, she could ‘accidently’ spill her potion on Viola. But for now, she settled on making her angrier.

As Professor Snape spoke, she casually leaned to her left, bumping Viola’s shoulder. Viola stiffened again, and she could feel her rage shivering through her body. 

Snape finished talking and left them to start brewing their potions. Viola was on the same wavelength as Senna. As they both set up their supplies, Viola planned to ‘accidently’ knock her griddle wort beans to the floor, but Senna’s legilimency gave her a head warning and she promptly moved the beans out of her reach.

Viola’s face was perplexed. She looked at Senna cautiously. “So it's true, then?” She whispered through her teeth. That you can read minds? Her thoughts finished the inquiry. 

“That I can read minds? Yes.” Senna whispered back.

“No,” Viola lied, feeling embarrassed. “That you’re the spawn of evil.” She hissed.

Senna couldn’t help it—she laughed out loud. This rumor had been gaining popularity since she arrived at Hogwarts, and Senna found it very ridiculous. 

Upon hearing her laugh, Professor Snape flew towards them like an angry bat, his black tunnel eyes bearing down on them.

“You have time for jokes?” He scorned, his lips pulled back in a scowl. “Then, I hope you’re finished with your potion.”

“No, Sir.” Viola and Senna said in unison.

“Then, what is so funny? Why don’t you share the joke with the class?” He gestured to the staring students. 

Senna could see Viola shrinking backwards under his vulture-like stare. A moment passed, but neither of them said anything.

“Well?” Snape said questioningly, stepping forward.

“I laughed at a new rumor going around.” Senna said with a calm, apathetic voice. 

“And what’s that?” 

“That I’m the spawn of evil.” Senna said without blinking.

She braced herself for the reproach, knowing what would come. She’d witnessed what happens to students who laugh in Professor Snape’s class. He forces them to announce whatever they were talking about so he can humiliate them about it. Then, he will yell at them about being a disgrace, an idiot, not suitable for NEWT level potions, and then proceeds to take a ridiculous amount of points from their house or give detention—unless they’re in Slytherin. Snape usually favors the students in his house.

Several students laughed, but Professor Snape did not. In fact, he did not say anything at all. A long moment passed. Instead of scolding her and humiliating her in front of the class, like she very much expected, he stared at her, his black eyes widening, and a strange, haunted expression spanning his face. He grew paler—if that was even possible. 

Senna stared back at his strange expression, trying to understand why she wasn’t being yelled at. In some ways, being looked at this way was much worse. It made her uneasy. What was wrong with him? 

After another awkward moment, Senna decided to speak. “Professor?” 

This seemed to break through Snape’s trance. His stony expression returned, and he looked between Senna and Viola. “Detention. Tonight. Both of you.” And then he walked away.

 

How will their night go? Stay tuned for chapter 11 : )


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“Detention? Again?” Hannah said with disbelief during dinner. 

Senna nodded sullenly. 

“Let me guess… It wasn't your fault?”

Senna sighed. “Not entirely. It was her fault for talking during the lesson, but I'm the one that laughed.”

Hannah raised her brow. “What did she say that was funny?” Hannah threw a glance toward the Slytherin table. Senna followed her gaze. Viola sat rigidly, she had been sulking since potions. Senna didn't blame her, she was a prefect, a star student who's never even gotten detention—until now. Because of Senna.

“She asked if I was the spawn of evil.” 

“You?” Hannah laughed, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. “You're far too nice to be the spawn of evil. I think those rumors are silly.”

As much as Senna appreciated the reassurance, she couldn't help but want to investigate the doubt in her eyes. The image of Snape flashed through her mind, followed by the dark mark.

Senna had heard the heard about Snape, through the minds of the students around her. He used to be a death eater, the Dark Lord’s right hand man. But after he fell thirteen years ago, Snape was tried and released. Most don't buy his pledge to the side of light, and suspected he is working for the Dark Prince in Voldemort’s absence. But Senna didn't know how that started the whole spawn of evil rumor.

“How did that rumor start, anyways?” Senna asked her.

Hannah shrugged, implying that she didn't know. But she did. Senna could hear it in her thoughts. 

Because you're a Snape. And the Snape’s are related to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Senna spat out her pumping juice, drenching the table cloth, and several Hufflepuffs. Senna stood up without apology. 

Professor Snape is related to Voldemort? Senna almost voiced this out loud, but clamped her jaw tightly shut. No, that would not be a good idea. 

She ignored the Hufflepuffs grumbling in annoyance and spun around.

“Where are you going?” Hannah called after her. 

But Senna ignored her and kept walking. She left the great hall, and paused. Where was she supposed to go? She was much too early for detention. She decided to go the library. 

It was still early in the evening, yet the corridor windows showed nothing but black sky. Winter was on it’s way in.

The sound of soft footfalls made Senna pause. She was only a few yards away from the library now. Everyone should be eating, who else would be here? 

And then she remembered that this was one of the main patrol routes the Aurors took. She flattened herself against the wall, waiting for the footsteps to fade away. But they didn't. It was coming closer. 

Damn. Who would she have to explain to? Dolohov? Proudfoot? Tonks?

The footsteps were only around the corner. Senna decided not to hide. That would only look more suspicious. She was allowed to visit the library during mealtime. 

She stepped out into the corridor, coming face to face with Nymphadora Tonks. She was as beautiful and eccentric as always. Her hair was longer today, jet black bangs fell across her face, and the short back was spiked in every direction. Under her signature maroon cloak, she wore a form-fitting black turtleneck, and black jeans. Her eyes were a startling blue today, and looking into them made her stomach do a flip.

Tonks’s face lit up in surprise and recognition. The corner of her mouth lifted into a grin, but as if catching herself, she recomposed herself and put on an indifferent expression. “Why are you not in the Great Hall like everyone else?” 

The coldness in her voice made Senna’s heart sink. Why was she being so stoic? 

“Library. Need to catch up on studying, so I ate fast.” Senna tried to make her voice cold too, but it sounded weak.

“Very well.” Tonks nodded and continued forward. 

When she passed, Senna’s heart gave a desperate lurch. She should say something. Anything.

“Tonks?” Senna said tentatively.

Tonks didn't answer, but she stopped walking.

“What's wrong?” Senna asked.

“Nothing.” She said casually. 

“Did I do something to upset you? Why are you acting like this?” 

“Acting like what?”

A feather of anger ran down Senna’s chest. So she was going pretend that nothing was wrong?

“Like you hate me now.” She said in a low voice.

“I don't hate you, Senna.” A bit of softness returned to her voice. She turned around to face Senna. “I just have a job to do, and can't afford distractions. I thought you'd understand.”

Senna understood. She and Tonks had spent a good portion of that night last week crying and making out while she was supposed to be on patrol. And last weekend, she had tried to steal Tonks’s time at Hogsmeade. But Tonks could've refused.

She understood, but it still hurt. Those few, stolen moments had been happier and more powerful than anything else in the last sixteen years. 

She thought back to Tonks’s embrace. How it had warmed her very soul. How her kiss set a flame raging through her body. How her skin felt so good under her hands. Impossibly good.

And she wanted those things again.

She exposed a part of herself to her that she had never shared with anyone. Her tears. Her personal demons. And with that, she manage to invest a piece of herself with Tonks, without even realizing it. And now, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't take it back.

“I see.” Senna tried to sound unaffected, but she sounded pretty glum—even to herself. “Don't let me hold you up. Have a good night.”

Senna walked away, rounding the last corner and entering the library. She dug up Chasing Magical Tournaments from its hiding spot, between two shelves, and opened it up. She tried her best to distract her mind with a flood of useful information, but was unable to concentrate. 

Damn it. She had always been able to drown her sorrows in books. But Hogwarts was doing strange things to her.

At 7:45, Senna closed the book, hid it in its hiding place, and left to meet her appointment. A knot of dread tightened in the pit of her stomach. This was her second offense, so detention was bound to be worse. She hoped she didn't have to gut frogs like Lee Jordan. She also felt a pang of guilt. Its was partially her fault that Viola no longer had a perfect track record. She didn't like Viola, but she was still human. 

She spotted the mane silky of red curls as she approached Snape’s office. Viola didn't look at her or acknowledge her arrival in any way. They both stood silently, waiting at Snape’s door.

Viola seemed to be trying very hard to clear her mind of all thought and emotion—the first step to beginner occlumency. No doubt to keep Senna out. This was good. Senna was getting tired of hearing her vicious thoughts. 

They both jumped when the office door swung open. 

Snape stuck his head out to glare at them both, his face contorted in a scowl. “Look at what we have here,” he sneered, “The two most competent potion students in detention. I must say that I am disappointed.” He turned his gaze to Viola whose cheeks were red with shame. “Especially you. It is most unusual for you to act up.”

Viola stared at her shoes.

“Inside, both of you.” He commanded.

They both scampered inside. 

Snape pointed to the two chairs on the other side of his desk. “Lines. You will write I will refrain from disrupting the classroom.”

“How many times?” Senna asked him.

“Until I tell you to stop.” Snape snapped. 

Senna and Viola took their seats and picked up their quills. Senna was relieved. It could have definitely been worse. She’s heard rumors about his detentions. They said he’d sent people into the forbidden forest to pick toxic flowers, made students dig through dung piles with their bare hands to find tubber worms, and used them as guinea pigs to test out new and deadly potions he’d invented. The first two seemed likely, but that last one was probably made up. She hoped. 

Viola scribbled the words angrily across the page. Senna felt like snape was watching her, but she dare not look. 

It was not until a half-an-hour later when Senna risked a peek towards Snape. And she was right about the feeling she had. Snape was staring at her intently, an unreadable expression on his face.

He promptly looked away upon getting caught. 

This struck Senna as strange. This was the second time. During her last detention, she swore he'd been staring at her the whole time too. 

It wasn't at all strange to have men staring at her. She was used to it. She had gotten drooling stares from men since puberty. But this wasn't one of those stares. It was almost like there was something about her that unnerved him. She was tempted to ask, but she doubted he would answer her truthfully. Maybe he believed in the rumors, believed she was a freak. An abnormality. 

But what was it? Why did he watch her like a bomb about to explode?

A frantic pounding on the door broke the silence. The sound made the three of them jump in their chairs. Snape quickly rose and glided to the door. When he opened it, professor Flitwick literally fell into his office, panting. 

“Death Eaters Severus. At least five of them.” He panted. “One Auror down, and we don’t have—”

“Stay here.” He called over his shoulder at the two girls, interrupting Flitwick’s words. Then he bounded out of the room, following Flitwick into the dark corridor. His office door swung shut, and an eerie silence followed. 

One Auror down…

Oh God. The image of Tonks’s beautiful face came into her mind. She was grinning, her eyes alight with a mischievous playfulness. 

Not her. Anyone but her. 

Another image infiltrated her mind. One where Tonks was lying on the ground, cold and unmoving. Her hair was a dull, mousey brown. Her eyes, distant and staring. No more grin. No more vivid hair.

Senna didn’t miss a beat. She was on her feet propelling herself towards the door—but a hand caught her around the wrist. It was Viola’s hand.

She stared down at it in disbelief.

“Let go of me.” Senna growled. 

“No.” Viola hissed.

“Now.” Senna’s voice was low and dangerous. A dozen different hexes went through her mind. What was she going to use on this girl?

Viola wrapped her hand tighter. “We’re supposed to stay here.”

Senna, not having the patience to argue with Viola, yanked her hand backwards as hard as she could. Senna had to hand it to her—she had quite the grip. Instead of breaking free, Senna managed to wrench Viola from her chair, and sending her into the shelves on the other side of the office. She landed with a thud and a gasp, sending the contents of the shelves onto the floor. Ingredient jars dropped like Christmas ornaments, shattering on the floor. A pang of guilt shot threw her. That looked like it hurt. She was sometimes unaware of her own strength.

“Sorry,” Senna said quickly, “I didn’t mean to throw you, but i’ve got a friend out there, and she might be hurt. I have too—”

Have to what? Senna didn’t have a plan, but she wasn’t going to waste any more time here. Tonk’s was out there, and if she wasn’t dead yet, she was going to do everything she could to keep it that way. 

She threw one last apologetic glance towards Viola, who was leaning against the wall, clutching her side. A flash of emotions funneled through her green eyes. Anger, as always. Viola never seemed to run out of that emotion. But there was also fear. Fear of the danger to come. 

And fear for Senna. Because Senna was about to do something reckless and dangerous. That’s why she didn’t let go. She was afraid. For her.

Senna shook her head. That was stupid. Viola absolutely loathed Senna. Her legilimency must be misfiring.

Without another backward glance, Senna open the office door and bounded into the night.


	12. Chapter 12

I’ve been having some writers block lately. Hopefully, it will pass. Reviews are encouraging.

Chapter 12

Following the frantic shouts in the distance, Senna bolted through each corridor. The halls were eerily deserted, no doubt everyone was locked in their common rooms. As Senna drew closer to the fight, the sounds of destruction grew louder. 

Shouts. Explosions. Roaring flames. 

She turned the corner to face the chaos. A variety of red, green, and blue lights zipped through the air, colliding with walls, windows, and people, sending glass, stone debris, and bodies through the air.

Senna was only frozen for a moment, dazed by the overwhelming flurry of action. She could make out the dark shapes behind the jets of light, and some voices—familiar voices. 

“Your left—Filius!” A frantic McGonagall called. 

As if on cue, the ground next to Professor Flitwick exploded, sending him flying across the corridor. There was no time to follow him however, as she spotted a flash of maroon 

There she was, poised between two black hooded figures, her wand waving madly in the air, sending jets of light at her opponents. Graceful and deadly. She was doing well—surprisingly so. The two Death Eaters were fast, but Tonks was faster, her spells and shields so fast, they blurred together in a dazzling display of lights. 

A jet of putrid green light shot inches from Tonks’s ear. A surge of dread froze in the pit of her stomach. No matter how good she was, she would not be able to block the killing curse. 

Despite her amazingly precise agility and wand work, Tonks was cornered. Snape had turned down a different hall, chasing after another Death Eater. Various Aurors were engaged in their own battles. Nobody was available to assist her.

With her presence still unnoticed, Senna sent a stunning spell into the fight, aiming for one of the Death Eaters Tonks was fighting. But it missed him, whizzing over his shoulder. He whirled around towards her.

Fuck! 

He hurled a killing curse straight for her face and she instinctively dived behind and suit of armor, but not before she saw Tonks using his distraction to her advantage and stunning him. Senna pushed herself up from the dirty stone floor, her heart pounding madly in her chest. 

The force of something exploding knocked her back onto the ground, along with the suit of armor. What the body hell was that? She registered pain, but was too confused to pinpoint where it was coming from. She scrambled on the ground, worried that Tonks was caught in the explosion. She tried to stand, but her vision swam and her ears rang. The sound of battle continued. Screeching, yelling, and banging. Something warm dribbled down her face. Blood. 

She allowed herself to breath for a moment, trying to chase away the panic. She'd been in plenty of sticky situations. Surrounded by angry guard dogs when breaking into a house to feed her starving self, getting shot at by store owners, and chased by murderous townspeople. But she could never get used to the crippling fear. 

When her vision no longer swam, she tried to see past the dust and debris, but she choked on it. 

Something grabbed the back of her blazer and yanked her to her feet. Senna yelped in surprise, prepared to punch her attacker—only to realize it was Tonks. Her hazel eyes were alight with fury.

She wanted to ask if she was okay, but she was still choking on the dust in the air. 

And then she was being dragged in the opposite direction, away from the fight.

“Where are we going?” She coughed, then threw a glance over her shoulder. Now that she was standing, she could see above the dust. Several black-robed figured laid motionless on the ground. The fighting had stopped. Aurors were restraining fallen enemies and comrades.

Tonks pulled her around the corner, and then another. Once they were well away from the scene of the fight, Tonks stopped. She rounded on her, fury evident in her face. She pulled out a handkerchief and started to dab at the blood on Senna’s forehead. “What are you doing?” She hissed.

“I came to find you.” Senna whispered.

Senna couldn't stop staring at her, relieved beyond belief to see her in one piece, to see light in her eyes, even if it was lit by rage. She was beautiful, even now, robes torn, and covered in ash and sweat. Her breathing was strained and raspy. Actually—it was rather sexy. 

“And why the hell would you do that? In the middle of a siege?” Tonks’s words cut through her like a knife.

“I wanted to help—” she stuttered, “I thought—”

Tonks groaned in frustration. “That just it. You didn't think. Students were prohibited from leaving their dormitories.” She took a deep breath, scanning Senna for additional injuries. “Hold this to your head to stop the bleeding,” she ordered. “There's a fine line between idiotic recklessness and bravery. Do you think about the consequences before you act?”

Another stab of pain. The sense of relief receded and irritation took its place. “I don't need your opinion.” She snapped. She shoved passed Tonks, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. 

Tonks grabbed her arm. “And I don’t need a sixteen-year-old girl checking on me.” 

Senna jerked her arm away, tears stinging her eyes. “Well then, sorry I bothered. Won't happen again.” She had meant to sound sarcastic, but her voice cracked, making her sound pathetic. Senna cursed at herself.

She stalked down the hall. Damn her. 

“Senna,” Tonks called, her voice was soft now. Pained. 

Senna ignored her, breaking into a run. Damn her, she repeated in her head. She felt so foolish. For thinking that those few moments of tenderness and affection meant anything at all. For thinking that Tonks would come around. For thinking that she would be grateful to see her.

She skidded to a stop. Upon seeing her, Professor Snape swooped in like an angry bat, “Snape!” he bellowed, then cringed, as if his own name tasted bitter in his mouth. 

Senna looked up at his livid expression, not caring that he was angry. She felt like she was watching his rage from a distance, like it was happening to someone else, not her. She felt empty and cold. 

“My office. Now.” He spat. 

Senna followed him, defeated. 

He shut the office door behind him. She looked around, surprised to see that Viola was no longer there. Of course, she was locked in her dorms, like all the other students. 

She expected him to start yelling like Tonks had, calling her reckless and foolish. But he didn’t. Not yet. He pulled out his wand and held it to her forehead. He muttered something and the effect was instantaneous. She felt a stinging heat light up across her forehead as her wound began to stitch together. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked in a strained calm. 

“No.” Aside from the gaping hole in her heart, the ringing in her ears, and the growing headache, she was fine. She was tempted to ask about the details of the fight, how the Death Eaters got in, and who died, but she knew that would just get her yelled at. 

“What. Were. You. Doing?” Snape asked in a low and dangerous voice. 

Here it comes, Senna sighed. 

What was she going to say? That she wouldn’t stand by and let someone she loved get hurt? Pft. Love. She was pathetic. 

“I was bored.” Senna lied.

His face went from white to green, his eyes growing even blacker. Senna took a step back when he opened his mouth, his lips quivering with anger. “You have the audacity to intervene in dire matters, for…” his voice shook, “entertainment? You could’ve gotten yourself killed! Or gotten someone else killed! To think! Such foolishness—” He slammed his hand down on the table, and she flinched. “Well Ms. Snape I have to say I’m disappointed. I expected much more from you, given your talent, but you’re no better than those pig-headed, brawny, Gryffindors!”

Senna took a chance. A very dangerous chance. But she was tired—very tired. Tired of games. Tired of strange looks from Professor Snape in class. Tired of it all. “Because you’d expect more from a daughter?” Her voice was a whisper, but she knew he heard her.

“No!” He bellowed. “That's it! Leave.” His posture went completely rigid. His face was a mask of shock, a bead of sweat ran down from his temple to his sallow cheek.

She turned around to leave, only to look back at when she reached the door. His eyes were wary—unnaturally so. He looked away from her.

The Brownwell students always looked at her like this—but this was different. What did he know about her? She had been here for only a few weeks, and yet, the moment they met, there was a strange tension emanating from him. Like there was something he was not telling her.

Maybe it was tonight’s events that make her more daring and suspicious. Maybe she received a concussion when she was thrown from the explosion. But that was it. She would not overlook another strange, wary look from him.

“Professor?”

He didn’t respond, but focused his attention on the essays in front of him. 

She spoke her mind anyways. “You know who I am. Don't you?”

She spoke very softly, but from his reaction, she might as well have yelled it. His hands curled into fists, the papers crumpling underneath them. 

“No.” He said gruffly. “I don't.”

A flash of anger ran down her spine, pulling her from her cold, apathetic haze. Even if his occlumency was perfect, she knew he was lying, knew it in the core of her being. Her name was Senna Severus Snape for God's sake. 

“You're lying.” She said in a low voice. The absolute sureness it conveyed surprised—but satisfied her. 

He took in a deep, defeated breath. She waited for him to speak. But for the longest moment, nothing came. It made her uneasy.

“You have no idea what you're asking.” He threatened. He looked directly at her now, his eyes stern.

How dare he. She knew having an attitude would be counterproductive to getting the information she needed, but she couldn't help herself. Anger flooded through her, making her face hot. “Excuse me?” 

“Have you ever considered that there might be a reason I haven't confided in you? That you would be better off not knowing?” He spat angrily.

Her brain worked hard around this information, trying to see a reason why she would not want to know. But she came up empty. What on earth did he mean? That she would regret knowing she may be related to a Death Eater? It wouldn't be too bad. There were plenty of Death Eater offspring at Hogwarts, and they were relatively happy and safe.

“I'd like to decide that for myself.” She tried to sound sure, but fear was creeping in. What if she was better off?

“And if you don't like what you hear?” His voice was very low and omnibus.

Senna swallowed. “I'm a big girl, I can deal.”

“Very well.” He stood and walked over to the fireplace, looking into it with his back towards her.

The silence between them was nearly deafening. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, and she was afraid that he could hear it. When the fire crackled and hissed, it sounded like thunder, making her jump. She tried to mask her nervousness, make herself feel nothing. Not fear. Not hope. It doesn't matter, she tried to tell herself. But nonetheless, the mixture of feelings churned hotly in the pit of her stomach.

“But now is not the appropriate time. Good night, Ms. Snape.”

Senna’s stomach gave an anticlimactic lurch before her anger resurfaced.

“Now is as good of a time as any.” Senna said through her teeth.

“Hogwarts has just been infiltrated. We have the grounds to search, investigations to staff, and Death Eaters to arrest. So no, it is not a good time. Go to bed before I change my mind. The halls should be safe now.” 

“But—”

“Now!” He howled.

Senna marched off, slamming the door behind her. He was right. There were far more important things that needed to be done. But that didn't settle the rage of being deprived of a breakthrough, right when she thought she was going to get it.

But her anger turned to dread. What was she going to say to Headmaster Roberts when he saw her like this? Sweaty, dirty, and a face full of dried blood. Senna was in for a long, miserable night.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Senna’s POV

To no surprise, class was canceled the next day. They were, without a doubt, searching the castle and investigating the details of the attack. The girl’s quarters at Brownwell were buzzing with hushed whispers. Rumors were beginning to spread. And a few of them starred Senna as the antagonist. Of course. She got a whiff of some of them:

She’s a dark witch. I bet she’s the one who let them in.

She was there. She tried to overtake Hogwarts, and ran back here when her plan failed.

I hope she gets expelled for this.

Everything they conjured was incorrect, except for the expulsion part. She could very well get expelled from lying to her Headmaster. 

Breakfast was served inside their dormitories. Senna grabbed a few pieces of toast and scampered into the second lobby. It was usually full of giggling girls, but was currently deserted. No doubt her presence here contributed to that. Her peers seem even more terrified of her since she showed up last night covered in blood. After her small breakfast, she wandered back to her bed and slid under the covers. 

She closed her eyes, willing the throbbing headache to go away. But it didn’t. Her entire body hurt, down to her bones. 

Despite the pain of knowing how hopeless her situation with Tonks was, she should be in a better mood. She had gotten lucky last night. In the chaos of the lock down, she had managed to sneak back to her dormitory. When she entered, she was caught by several frightened Brownwell girls. She didn't blame them. Covered in dried blood and soot, she looked like someone from a murder scene. It was surprisingly easy to threaten them into silence. She was able shower away the filth, discard her torn uniform, and convince her Headmaster she was there all along. She knew this was a bad idea. Once the Hogwarts staff confided in him about her reckless intervention, she would be in a lot more trouble. But she had been exhausted, and simply couldn't bring herself to explain it all to him and deal with the consequences.

And Senna was disappointed in herself. 

Despite the her ongoing endeavor to master defense against the dark arts and physical self-defense, despite her flawless performance in every class and test, despite the instinct, skill, and strength she gain from spending her childhood fighting just to survive… Despite it all, she had been useless at the scene of the fight. A burden. She missed for God’s sake. 

And Tonks was right. 

For the first time in her life, she was not as good as she thought she was. 

The pain lingering in her body was nothing like the shame and embarrassment she felt. It hurt worse. 

She spent the day in her bed, thinking. And thinking. Until there was nothing left to analyze. Tonks wasn't going to give her the time of day. Not now, and probably not ever. Her temporary interest in Senna had been just that—temporary. Senna had to focus. She was here for the tournament, not to be led around the nose by puppy love.

And besides, she was beginning to unearth something far more important. Her origins. Snape knew something, and she was so close to learning what it was.

But her heart still ached, yearned for the piece of happiness that was always out of her reach. 

The lockdown lifted in time for dinner.

Senna was morose at dinner. Hannah, being the sweet friend she was, kept inquiring about her well-being. “What happened to you? You look dreadful.” Hannah asked her. “Maybe you should visit the hospital wing.” 

“Nothing happened.” Senna lied.

But Hannah was right. She did look dreadful. Senna observed her reflection in the shiny goblet full of pumpkin juice. There were dark circles under her eyes, she hadn't bothered to do her hair, and she looked paler than usual. Professor Snape’s healing magic was very good. All the bruises and scrapes on her face had vanished, and what was left of the deep gash on her forehead, was now a faint, unnoticeable line. It was almost like she was never at the fight. But there was no magic that could erase the piercing ring in her ears, the deep ache in her bones, the pounding headache, and the physical and emotional exhaustion she felt. She felt as dreadful as she looked.

She was also anxious. She kept looking up at the staff table to see Headmaster Roberts speaking with Hogwarts staff, waiting for the slip to happen, and she would be in very big trouble.

She had no appetite, but forced herself to put away a slices of bread and several spoonful’s of stew. It seemed so strange to sit here in the Grand Hall, with the multitude of Hogwarts and exchange students, when just yesterday, it had been a war zone.

“Did anyone get hurt yesterday?” She asked Hannah. 

“None of the students. We were all already in bed when they started the lock down. And it looked like the staff is all here,” she jerked her head towards the staff table.

“And the Aurors?”

“I don’t know.” she shook her head. 

“No one knows how they got in?”

“Not yet,” Hannah sighed, “But the information will go around eventually.”

Senna snorted, “The gossip grapevine is a great source of bullshit.”

Hannah laughed, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was too shaken up by the attack. She had always believed Hogwarts to be a safe haven, untouchable. And if Death Eaters could waltz onto campus, what was to stop the Dark Prince from barging in and wiping out muggleborns and blood traitors?

Tonight, she didn’t wait for the tables to clear of students before standing. She didn’t was to be the only one left among the occupants of the staff table. Surely her Headmaster had gotten the truth by now, and she wasn’t in the mood to hear about it. She tried to blend in with the crowds, but it didn’t help that she was nearly a foot taller than the Hufflepuff girls surrounding her. She bolted towards the door. 

“Senna!” A voice called. 

She ignored it, breaking into a run. Students turned to stare at the commotion and moved out of her way. 

“Senna!” It was Viola Richmond’s voice, and it was getting closer.

Senna made a turn towards an empty corridor. Once away from the crowd of students, she stopped, but didn’t turn around to face Viola. “I didn’t know we were on a first name basis, Richmond.” 

She expected to hear her skidding to a stop, but her footsteps kept coming, and she sounded far too close. Was she going to run into her?

Senna spun around to see what she was doing—but it was too late. Viola was inches from her, with her hand raised in the air—and then it came down on her face. 

Viola slapped her hard enough that she saw stars. Pain seared through one side of her face. For a moment, she was too stunned to be angry. But when the initial shock wore off, she was livid. 

But before she could open her mouth to insult her, Viola’s arms wrapped around her neck, pulling them close. Senna stumbled backwards and tried to get to her wand, but Viola was pressed so tightly against her, that she couldn’t get to her blazer pocket. Viola was obviously trying to kill her. Or was she?

Senna stilled and concentrated on Viola’s emotions. Anger towards Senna. That was no surprise. But it was the relief Viola felt that baffled her. She was happy to see Senna alive and unhurt. She was enjoying the feel of Senna’s body against hers. 

Wait… was she hugging her? Viola Richmond was hugging her? The concussion much have been worse than she thought. She was clearly hallucinating. 

Violas arms released her, and she took a step back.

“What—” Senna started, but was interrupted.

“What the bloody hell were you doing? Running towards the danger?” Viola spat. “Apparently, you not as smart as your O.W.L’s say you are!”

“Wait—,” Senna blinked, “how do you know what my O.W.L’s say?”

“Nevermind that!” She fumed. Her face turned redder. She was almost the same color as her hair now. “I hope you’re in huge trouble, you deserve it!” 

“I’m sure I am.” Senna exhaled. She was too drained to stay angry. And she wasn’t in the mood to be yelled at all night by this girl. 

Her perfect face was contorted into a scowl. She was still stunningly beautiful, even when angry. Not many women could have such luck. Her red hair was disheveled from running, and thrown over her shoulder like an angry flame. 

Viola opened her mouth, and Senna knew more insults were on their way. So she sucked up her pride and did the only thing she knew that could shut her up—an apology. 

“I’m sorry.” Senna said in a quiet voice.

Viola’s full lips twitched, but she didn’t say anything. 

“I’m sorry about running off like that and throwing you into the shelving. Were you okay?” She asked sincerely. 

Her apology caught Viola off guard. She hadn’t expected Senna to give up so easily, and didn’t know what to make of it. “Umm… I’m fine.” She grumbled. 

“And I’m sorry I worried you.”

Viola took a step back, her cheeks flaming. “D—Don’t be stupid, I wasn’t worried.”

To Senna, the lie was clear as day. Viola could no longer look at her. Actually, it was rather cute. It wasn’t often that she saw Viola embarrassed. 

Senna took a step forward and reached out to touch her arm. She expected Viola to jerk away, and was surprised when she didn’t. 

“Seriously,” Viola mumbled, her face pink and facing the other direction. The blush was endearing on her freckled cheeks. “What were you thinking?”

Senna sighed and decided to be truthful. “I panicked. I was worried about a friend of mine.”

Viola’s green eyes flashed towards her. “What would a friend of yours be doing at the scene of a fight?” She asked skeptically, thinking Senna was referring to one of the Death Eaters.

“One of the Aurors,” she corrected quickly. 

Viola raised her red eyebrows in question, “You’re friends with an auror?”

“Well… not really. Not anymore.” She admitted, her heart sinking. 

“That’s what I thought. Auror’s are the best of the best, they’d have better taste than hanging out with you.”

A flash of irritation coursed through her. She was right of course, but that didn’t stop the pain from resurfacing. Tonks did have better things to do. Better people to associate with. She knew that, and it hurt.

Viola’s bright green eyes were alight with amusement. A smug grin spread across her face. 

Senna wanted to slap her. She would’ve—if she wasn’t caught off guard by the sexiness of that grin. It was cocky, arrogant, and yet, it made her stomach flutter uncomfortably. Her fingers twitched with the urge to both slap the grin off her face, and kiss her until she was begging for air. Senna fought with those impulses, trying to decide which one she wanted more. 

Senna moved quickly and took another step forward, grabbing Viola’s face between her hands. Viola tried to step back, but Senna’s hold was too strong. Her green eyes were surprised and confused. Senna leaned forward so that their faces were an inch apart. To her satisfaction, all traces of smugness left Viola’s face. Looking directly into those piercing eyes, it was easy to gauge her emotions now. She was confused, unnerved, but strangely excited. 

Now, it was Senna’s turn to grin.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Senna liked seeing her like this. The powerful and confident Slytherin Prefect, Viola Richmond, squirming under her fixed gaze. It made her feel powerful. She could feel Viola’s pulse race underneath her fingertips. She leaned in and grazed Viola’s soft lips with her own. Senna heard the sharp intake of breath, but there was no sign of retreat from Viola. Senna was surprised by how soft her lips were, how sweet her breath smelled. You’d never know that such volatile insults could leave such warm, soft lips. And what was even more surprising—Senna liked the feel of them. 

Senna teasingly brushed her lips against her again, satisfied when a frustrated groan escaped Viola’s.

She moved away from her lips to lean into her ear, “What’s wrong?” Senna whispered smugly.

She could could hear Viola take a deep breath as she prepared to voice a nasty string of insults. But before she could voice them, Senna took her earlobe gently between her teeth. She was rewarded with a gasp and a shudder from Viola. She nibbled the contours of her ear, before licking a trail down to her neck. “Sorry, what was that?” Senna chuckled softly in her ear.

Before Viola could answer, Senna kissed her way down her neck, pushing Viola’s robes aside to nibble on her collarbone. She liked the taste of her skin, and it was soft under her lips. She smelled like a mix of warm Christmas spices. Viola let out a subtle moan. This encouraged her. Senna rose and met Viola’s lips, and she wasn’t gentle. She sucked Viola’s bottom lip into her mouth, hard. There was another moan, loud and needy, but Senna wasn’t sure who it had come from. Her lips were hot and aggressive. They battled for dominance. Viola was no push over, and seemed determined to regain control. Senna found this incredibly arousing.

She deftly undid the first button on Viola’s blouse, and then the second, then slid her hand into her blouse to caress the soft skin right above her breasts. Viola’s body trembled with desire.

Suddenly, pain exploded from her bottom lip. She jerked backwards, holding a hand to her throbbing lip. It came away with blood. Viola had bitten her.

She looked up to see Viola livid. Her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes were as sharp as daggers. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

“How dare you.” Viola panted. She opened her mouth to say more, pointed an accusing finger in her direction, but struggled with words. “Y-you—”

Senna chuckled and began to walk away. She expected to hear Viola chase after her and slap her again, but her wake was silent. This was disappointing. She almost wanted Viola to retaliate.

Without looking back, she continued to her dormitory, a smug smile on her face. She tasted blood, but she didn't mind. She would take the trade any day.

Today is the day. Senna swung her legs out of bed, ignoring the girls who scampered out of her way. It didn't annoy her anymore. In fact, it was convenient. It meant she didn't have to wait in line for the bathroom.

Senna walked with determination to the Slytherin common rooms. The sun was bright for a late October morning. It spilled through the windows like white blankets. But soon, the light faded into darkness as she descended down the stairs. The dungeons were dark and dreary.

She propped herself against the wall, watching the Slytherins leave the common room for breakfast in the great hall. Some stopped and stared, or maybe they were gaping at her... but she paid no attention to them. She was waiting for a mane of red hair to appear.

One by one the Slytherins dwindled, and soon, the portrait shut behind the last Slytherin. And that was it. Senna began to pace. She was early enough, wasn’t she? Unless Viola had left at an ungodly hour, she should’ve caught her.

Several minutes passed. Maybe she was too late. Viola was probably at the great hall already. She was about to turn and leave when the portrait creaked open once more. A first year shimmied through the entrance. His hair was disheveled, his tie messy, and there was still a streak of toothpaste left on his small chin. He was obviously running late.

The little first year stopped between the portrait and the common room when he spotted Senna. His eyes were wary.

Figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask, Senna approached him. The boy cowered, sinking farther back into the common room.

She smiled at him. She could see what her smile looked like in his mind. To him, she looked like an angel. He was intimidated, and transfixed. “Where’s Viola?” She asked in a sweet voice, “Is she in the great hall already?”

“Err-Sh-she is still here.” His voice trembled. A blush crept onto his face.

As he spoke, he recalled a recent memory. Senna caught every bit. Slytherin girls talking in the common room. They were waiting for Viola, but decided to leave without her because she was still in the shower.

A devilish grin spread across her face. “Perfect.” She told the boy.

He looked confused for only a moment before Senna took the portrait and shoved herself inside the common room. The first year spun around in alarm. You’re not supposed to be in here! His mind screamed.

Senna looked back at him, her eyes daring him to say something. As she expected, he did not dare. He simply backed out of the common room, and scampered away.

When she entered the communal Slytherin bathroom, steam escaped, carrying the scent of floral shampoo. She heard a single shower still active in the background. 

Sienna stalked forward, being careful not to slip on the wet tile. When she drew near, the shower knob was turned with a loud squeak, and the water promptly stopped. A pale hand reached over the shower door to snag the towel hanging on it.

“Whatever it is you're thinking, don't bother.” Viola spat in a particularly nasty tone usually reserved just for Senna.

Senna smiled. “You're good. How did you know it was me?”

“Who else would approach my shower slowly like some sort of creep?”

The shower curtain burst open, revealing a pinked-face Viola covered in nothing but a towel. Senna had to take a moment to appreciate the view. Her hair was even redder when wet, and looked very sexy draped over her shoulder. Her shoulders were very freckled and very beautiful. Drops of water still rolled down her collarbone, and made Senna want to lick them off. She let her eyes trail down to her creamy white legs. Very nice, Senna thought to herself.

Viola stomped her foot, forcing Senna’s gaze back up. Her face was red now, her eyes both angry… and a little of something else. She hugged the towel around herself tight, as if trying to hide herself from Senna’s intrusive eyes, but unknown to her, it just made her cleavage more appealing to Senna.

“What. Do. You. Want.” She hissed. 

Senna smiled. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief, and then narrowed again. “I'm not doing you any bloody favors.” she growled.

Senna stepped closer, using her new found weapon to try and coerce Viola. “Come on, it won't be of any inconvenience to you…” she tipped Viola’s chin up with her finger, which Viola quickly smacked away.

“Your very existence is an inconvenience.”

Senna laughed. It sounded a bit bitter. There was so much truth in her words, that it made her sad. She was more right that she would ever know. She often got the feeling people wished she would disappear. And the way the Hogwarts staff looked at her, like a ticking time bomb, she knew they wished for the same thing.

“Fine.” Senna sighed in defeat. She wasn't going to harass Viola too much. She’d never been much of a bully until lately, and felt a little guilty for last night. Even if she was a bitch. 

Viola looked surprised she had given up so easily. When Senna turned around to leave, Viola spoke up.

“Wait.” Viola called. Senna stopped in her tracks, her shoes squeaking against the wet tile. “What did you want me to do?” Viola was curious. 

Senna pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. “My name.” She said without looking at the beautiful girl. “I want you to put it in the goblet of fire.”

A sharp bark of a laugh echoed against the tile walls. “You-you’re mad if you think I would actually do that.” She said in between laughs.

“I know.” Senna acted unperturbed.

“Then why bother?” 

“Because.” Senna turned her head just far enough to see the girl in her peripheral vision. “I thought you'd understand. That feeling…”

Viola shifted uncomfortably. “What are you bloody talking about?”

“You know,” she paused, “the feeling of wanting more. A challenge. When things we first set out to master become too easy… it makes us feel empty. It makes us anxious. It gives us a this unbearable urge to escape this medicorcy.” Senna gestured around her.

“Don’t say us. You don't know anything about me.” she said, but her voice sounded weaker. 

Senna turned to face her. She was looking her feet. She was lying. Senna knew Viola was familiar with this feeling—they were too much alike. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Viola looked up, resolve in her eyes. “How about we make a deal?”

Senna raised an eyebrow. “What kind of deal?” Whatever this girl wanted in return, it couldn't be good.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Senna's POV

Viola's request came as a surprise. Viola wanted to be tutored in defense against the dark arts.

No way. That could take all year. She didn't mind the occasional encounter with Viola. Trying to make each other's lives miserable in class was kind of entertaining. And she was also nice to look at, that made it almost bearable. But seeing her almost every day would certainly get old very quick. She could only handle a teaspoon of her bitchiness per day.

Senna protested. "But your occlumency is already decent, I swear I only heard half of your thoughts."

"Half? That isn't good enough. I don't want you to hear anything."

Senna groaned. Tutoring her in all these things could take ages. "And your nonverbal shield charm is almost perfect!"

"But not perfect yet."

"And I can't exactly teach you how to move like me…" Viola has brought up the duel with professor Moody, how Senna had moved swiftly and expertly out of the way of his attacks. "You'd move the same way if you spent years as a street-rat fighting to survive. It's not something that can be taught."

"You're smart, you'll find a way."

"I'm a terrible teacher. I can't do it."

"Really?" Viola snapped. She was irritated with her now. "You tutored those hopeless Hufflepuffs in conjuring! And if you can get those idiots to actually do it right, anything is possible. So don't give me any more stupid excuses."

Senna shook her head in disbelief. "How do you know about that? Seriously, are you stalking me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have better things to do than keep tabs on you."

"Apparently, you don't." Senna waved her away, walking towards the bathroom exit. She was just going to threaten one of the seventh year Brownwells into putting her name in.

"I thought you needed my help." Viola chased after her.

"I do. But if I had to see you every day, I'd go mad before the tournament even started." Senna shivered at the idea. "No thanks."

"If it makes you feel any better, I hate you too."

Senna let the bathroom door close on Viola's face, hoping it would make her drop her towel.

Viola stopped the door with one had before it collided with her face, her other hand still secure around the towel.

Senna sighed in disappointment.

Viola's face flushed with anger. "You are a real bitch. Do you know that?"

Senna's spirits lifted. "Yes."

"It that why they can't seem to stand being in the same room with you?"

Viola wasn't specific, but she knew she was talking about the other Brownwell students. They avoided her like she was a rabid animal. Of course Viola noticed, she seemed to be informed of everything that involved Senna.

"Oh please. I'm a saint compared to you. Maybe that's why you're always alone in every class. Don't you have any friends?" Senna said with venom.

Viola's eyes flashed dangerously. "Loads. Unlike you."

"I do have friends."

Viola laughed mockingly. "You mean bubble-faced Hannah and those pathetic boys who can't even wipe their own arse without someone's help?"

A surge of anger boiled in Senna's stomach. She wanted to slap that mocking grin off her face. Senna pulled out her wand. "Don't you dare say another word about them." Senna warned.

"Seriously? You're defending them?" She shook her head in disapproval. "Frankly, I think you can do better. Nothing good will come out of hanging out with those—"

"I said, not another word." She stepped closer, pushing her wand into her neck.

Viola's mocking smile grew wider, her eyes dancing with amusement. She was daring her to do something. Senna couldn't understand where this audacity was coming from. She was wandless and nearly naked. It made her so angry. She should be more concerned about the outcome of this brawl. Violas occlumency was up for the most part, and didn't reveal her thoughts.

Senna looked down again at those smooth, freckled shoulders. When her gaze traveled to her neck, she noticed the rapid beating under her skin. Senna smirked.

"Are you afraid?" Senna asked.

Viola tried hard to look confident, but Senna saw her throat move as she swallowed. "You're a pushover, you won't hex someone unarmed."

Senna's lips twitched in irritation. "Maybe not, but I'll make an exception for you."

She trailed her wand down her neck, to where her pulse was fluttering wildly under her skin. The freckles on her skin were so very endearing. She wanted to touch them with her finger tips. "You are nervous. What's the point of learning occlumency if you can't control your fear?" Senna mocked her.

Viola slapped her wand away. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"Not yet." Senna said. "But I'm sure you'll come around."

"You're wrong." Viola's voice was final.

Her bright green eyes were unwavering. The intensity of her stare made Senna's stomach flip in a strange way. Senna didn't like this. There was no doubt in Senna's mind that she was right. Viola would never be afraid of her. She wasn't a coward. So how would Senna get rid of her then? She knew this agreement was not something she could back out of easily. Viola would make sure Senna followed through until the end. This would be a commitment.

"Now, stop wasting my time." Viola released her towel, letting it fall to the floor.

Senna gaped in shock. She was not expecting her to do that. Her eyes automatically went to take her in. She was captivated by her breasts, which were full and perfect. She was curvy, and looked very soft. Her pink nipples looked mouthwatering.

But Senna didn't not have enough time to admire the beauty before her. She could not stop Viola even if she wanted to. Her limbs were frozen solid. Viola shoved both hands against Senna's chest, pushing her onto the ground.

She hit the ground hard—still in shock. But she shook her head clear. She tried to push herself back up, but Viola was on top of her now. She thought of a dozen different ways to throw her off and gain the upper hand. She'd thrown off bigger, stronger opponents if her days as a street rat… But those opponents weren't naked and very attractive. Every plan she came up with dissolved when she looked up to meet those smug green eyes, shining with amusement. Viola's legs wrapped around her hips in a very erotic way. Her skin was hot like fire, still warmed from the shower. Senna dare not look down. She tried to concentrate on Viola's eyes, trying to act unbothered by the sudden turn of events. But it was difficult. The heat between her legs was letting itself known. She hated the fact that she was aroused by this. Very aroused.

Viola leaned into her ear, and spoke in a degrading manner, "What's wrong? Nervous?"

There was no doubt she was getting revenge for last night.

Senna wanted to fight back… but Violas full breasts were now against her chest. Soft and smooth. And she smelled so good, like flowers and bit of Christmas spice. Her mind was getting blurry.

Viola leaned in closer, pushing her lips against her ears. Her wet hair tickled Senna's neck. Senna shivered, a bolt of arousal coursing through her. "Dammit," Senna hissed. "Get off—"

But Senna's words were cut off when Viola's teeth nibbled the sensitive skin on her neck. A gasp of pleasure left her lips unwillingly. Damn her, Senna thought.

Violas hand slowly and torturously made its way down her collar bone. Her nails pushed down into her skin just barely to the point of pain. Senna gasped again. The fire was unbearable now. If only she could gain the upper hand… she would make Viola pay for this.

Her hands continued lower, going inside her blazer jacket.

Oh god… Senna thought.

And then Violas hand withdrew. A small piece of paper inter her hand. The paper with Senna's name on it.

Viola stood up. Unashamed of her naked body. And she shouldn't be, it was a glorious body. Her skin was perfect, white, with a splash of endearing freckles—and Senna could not do anything but admire it.

Viola held up the name in her hand, her smile was smug and infuriating.

"I believe we have a deal."

And she walked away, leaving Senna on the floor. She felt angry and betrayed. And very, very horny.

Until next time... Please review if you can.


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